Feverish
by LunaOculi
Summary: Dante's in hell. Literally. Nero is the only one who can save him; the only one willing to save him. His debt must be paid to the older hunter, he knows this. It was never going to be an easy mission to begin with. However, Nero's body is changing. The Fever… warning: Heavy D/N. Extremely dark in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a Yaoi Fanfic, and there _will_ be SLASH in this. Meaning "very,very juicy male on male sexy time."**

**You have been warned. **

* * *

**Feverish**

* * *

It was raining. It felt good for Nero's temperature - probably not in the long run, but for the moment it was a great relief. It soaked his hair; his bangs irritated his heated cheeks. His clothes stuck to him with a sort of suction. The combination of icy cold rain and abnormally high body temperature made him steam.

His fever was clearly on the abnormal scale.

He stood outside his door for a moment, letting the downpour drench him to the bone. It didn't work. With a groan, Nero shoved open the door and walked in, boots squelching.

he shook his hair like a wet dog, closing the door, his hair was dry within seconds. His clothes were still damp, but were now trapping the heat into his skin, giving the feel of a swampy, humid climate. he kicked his boots off with great struggle and raced to the shower upstairs.

He peeled off his clothes - coat, vest and jeans - turned on the cold water and stepped in. His body didn't lurch or shrink away from the cold, but instead welcomed it. the knots in his back seemed to melt away, the heat leaving him in gradual waves. It was a flurry of hot and cold, like in a summers night when you kick the bed sheets off. Warm. Cool. Warm. Cool. Eventually you ease into something comfortable.

Kyrie wasn't home that afternoon. She's usually at the door, waiting for Nero with her hands clasped in front of her chest as if she was praying, or holding a butterfly in her hands and trying not to let it go away. She would smile to. She always smiled. She was the only one who ever did smile at Nero. Except for…

Well, Nero hadn't seen that man since The Saviour incident. Dante, he remembered as his name, hadn't exactly kept in touch over the past year. A shame, Nero was starting to miss a bit of fire in his life, seeing as there weren't many demons left in Fortuna. A few sparing matches with the older hunter would be just fine and dandy.

The heat came back; it seemed to hit Nero in the face.

The cold water was no longer helping. He sighed in defeat, and turned it off. He went to bed, with only bothering to put a pair of jocks on before crashing, his sheets long since discarded in the corner. He tried to get to sleep, but the boil rising in his blood was keeping him up.

He wondered to himself when Kyrie would be back.

H wasn't entirely worried, Kyrie goes to her friend's house sometimes to sleep over, a lot like a little girl, but she doesn't care. There are also days when she visits her parents and doesn't come back till the following morning.

Despite past concerns; Fortuna is a safe place. All demon gates have been eradicated, and only the rare stray demon comes around and even then it's only in the jungle or in the mountains. Totally safe.

Still, Nero sometimes had his moments. But for now, he was fine.

Fine enough, that he eventually melted away into a dream.

* * *

He saw a forrest: healthy, flourishing, green…

…demonic.

His vision blurred as it followed a path. He knows it nearly off by heart; he took it to close a Hell Gate.

And there it was, the Hell Gate, in pieces, chunks of decorated stone spread across the clearing. However, erected in it's place, was a New Gate: a fleshy oval, with Dark red stone's acting as pillars. The centre of the oval sparked, like a firecracker, before bursting into purple flames. It stayed within the Oval, as if pressed by glass. The purple flames stilled burned, flat and deceptively beautiful.

Nero, for whatever reason, reached out with his devil bringer to touch it. The scene melted away into something else.

_Dante rode his motorbike through a huge ravine. The rocks were a very dark red; glistening like polished garnet. The sounds of the roaring machine echoed back at him. His red trench coat flailing behind him. His body was as fine as always, the black and red leather he was clad in was nice on the eyes, too bad no one was looking, for the terrain was vacant of any form of life._

_Eventually the ravine made way to a gully, where dead trees of a demonic natural arched over him in a tunnel-like formation. As cool as it was to ride on such a sleek looking beast, this baby wasn't made for dirt tracks. _

_Dante got off his bike, dusted off the metal lovingly and left it there as he walked further up the gully. It was a decrepit and ominous sight, it looked as if water hadn't flown through here for thousands…no, maybe even millions of years. Dante would not be surprised if that was a fact. _

_The scenery beyond was much worse._

_There was no doubt, not even a spiders thread of doubt in his mind:_

_Dante was in Hell. _

_Dante had seen his fair share of demons…but down here in the motherland…well, imagine the largest mosh-pit you've ever seen at a concert; thousands of fans filling a football field. Now times that by ten and you still have no idea. _

_For once in his life, he doubted his abilities. But it was a fleeting doubt - there and gone. Maybe call it arrogance, or suicide, but Dante would call it natural persistence. He'd already closed the gates he needed to, now he just need to find a way out, one that he can close from the outside._

_He could be waiting a long while for that. _

_Negative thoughts weren't his cup of tea, so he quickly decided where to go next._

_In the distance he saw a dark tower. It was the same red-black stone of the ravine, and had thunderclouds swirling it's peak as if a tornado was begging to stir things up. _

_That's where he's headed. But the problem is the countless of demons. _

**mow through them,** _he thought,_** don't stop.**

_he had some orbs, he could feel that his devil trigger was ready to rumble. He had all sorts of weapons on him and he was at prime health. Running through the largest crowd of demons he'd ever seen may count as suicide, even for him, but Dante also had one more thing: inexplicable luck. _

_After all, he had to try. To see that person again…_

_He brandished Rebellion, the bloodied steel skull grinning the same way as Dante. _

_"Fuck it," He said, "Lets rock!"_

_The moment he came out of the shadows every single head turned to him and got ready to fight, sort of like a freakish Mexican wave; a ripple effect. _

_He ran at 'em._

_As his sword cut through the first few dozens of demons, a claw came at him from nowhere - talons an inch away from tearing straight through his face…_

* * *

Nero shot up in bed, gasping, alert, and in cold sweat. The Fever burned hotter under his freezing skin. It wasn't until the panic had settled had he realised he'd cried out Dante's name when he awoke.

Dante was in danger.

Nero had to help him.

The gate…he had to find that gate.

With sudden adrenaline pulsing through him, Nero got dressed double time. A swift glance out the window confirmed it wasn't yet daylight hours, it was probably four or five in the morning. He rushed downstairs to where he had left his gear. When he heard the door open, he became more alert, and stared at it. But it opened so slowly it might as well have been the breeze. However, Kyrie entered.

When she saw Nero, she smiled. But her delicate eyebrows knitted in confusion when she saw him dressed and clearly agitated.

"Nero," she said, "You're up so early? I thought you'd be in bed recovering like I told you."

"I'm sorry, Kyrie, I'm just…I'm going to be away for a while on another mission."

"Another mission? Why so soon? Can't it wait?"

"No it can't, you see it's…" Nero hesitated, unsure how she would react, "It's Dante. He's trapped in…in some place. He's in danger, I have to save him."

Her smile melted, "What?"

"Dante, the Man in Red? From back then? He's in danger."

"I-I-I know that bit but…" She bit her lip, before saying, "…this isn't a mission isn't it? It's something you've decided on your own."

Nero bowed his head to avoid eye contact. How could he explain? He couldn't, that's the thing, "It doesn't matter. What _does_ matter is that I have to help him."

Kyrie blinked. As if she was trying process what he just said.

"Why?" she said eventually.

Nero frowned, "He saved me, Kyrie. He saved you! Hell, he saved all of us! This entire Island would've been thrown into chaos if it wasn't for Dante! It is only fair that I repay that debt."

"You'd honestly risk your life for a man you don't even know, Nero?"

His breath caught in his chest. She was right. She was absolutely right: he didn't know Dante at all. For some ungodly reason, that pissed him off.

"I know he's a good man," Nero growled through his teeth, "That's enough reason."

"It's not! He's not worth it! I have a terrible feeling about this!" Kyrie tried to reason with him. She was desperate for Nero to listen to her.

But he'd had enough of this, he turned away from her and received his weapons. She watched, horrified as he got ready to leave, as he would usually do for a normal mission. She really did have a terrible feeling about this; a dark fist grasped at her heart and told her that this would get him killed.

As he opened the door and was just about to leave, she threw herself against the threshold dramatically, as if she was dancing the tango with it.

"You leave," She whispered, eyes tearing up, "and I'll leave as well. But not with you. If you go after that man, you and I are over. I'm sorry, but…I. Just. Cant. Let. You. _Do this!"_

Nero stared at her in silence. His eyes were blank, almost sorrowful. The Fever rushed through his veins like alcohol, making him feel…differently…about the situation. It made him _respond_ differently then what the old Nero might've.

He adjusted the handle of his sword before leaning in to kiss Kyrie on the cheek.

"Whatever helps you sleep, sis," Nero whispered softly into her ear.

As gently as he possibly could, he pried her fingers from the doorway and stepped past her. She turned, only to see an empty street, slowly greying as another rain cloud descended over the town. She began to cry.

* * *

**I know you're expecting something dirty, but I'm leading up to that. Be patient.**

**Anyway, hope you guys like the new story,**

**Cheers!**

**Luna.**


	2. Chapter 2

All the way there, Nero's mind was becoming more and more fraught about Dante. He had resigned Kyrie was better off but he still had a lingering guilt that itched at his mind. It was easy to ignore. However, thoughts of Dante plagued him relentlessly. He wasn't entirely sure if thinking about an acquaintance so fretfully was normal or healthy, but all he knew was that he had to get to the Tower.

Woah.

Hold up.

_Tower?_

He stopped in his tracks. Where had the thought of a _Tower _come from? What did that have to do with saving Dante? It didn't make sense…a Tower, he needed to get to the Tower, that was his priority. But why? Why?

He was feeling confused by his own feelings, and The Fever wasn't helping his case. it made everything seem a little foggy around the edges.

But if he had any thoughts of turning back, it was too late now. Because up ahead was the clearing from his dreams...

And The Gate stood proud and ominous in the ruins.

* * *

He was no longer moving on his own now. It was almost like he was outside of his body, watching himself walk towards it.

The Gate was easily ten meters tall - small compared to most Hell Gate's he'd seen before - but that didn't make it any less daunting. He reached out with his Devil Bringer, much like he did in his dream, and touched the flat, swirling flame. He expected…well he didn't know what he expected. Maybe getting sucked in, a white out. But instead, the purple flames rippled at his touch, like water. Nothing happened. He pushed his hand through with a small amount of resistance, as if the Gate was reluctant to serve it's purpose and let him in. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he went through.

Nero didn't know what he was expecting but this wasn't it. He had entered a room with pealing wallpapers and a dusty floor. Across the room was an elevator; the old cage ones you see in fancy residents, or maybe in historical museums.

Nero looked back to see the Gate standing tall behind him, still opened. However, he noticed, that the same black-red stones from his dreams was now sprouting from every corner, as if the Gate had corrupted the very room. He wasn't entirely sure if he was relieved or worried.

He forged ahead into the Cage Elevator. The cage locked the moment he was inside, and before he could doubt what he had just done, the elevator dropped.

Nero stumbled before grabbing hold of the railing. He was going much to fast. The noise of scraping metal screamed in his ears. He watched as he passed all these rooms in a blur, before the scene changed to rock. A little lightbulb trembling and flickering above his head was the only source of light.

"Good idea to hang on, there's no guarantee that this elevator is a safe ride. "

Nero nearly banged his elbow. A guy around Nero's age was standing right next to him, casually, as if this demonic elevator was taking him to work at his desk job. The young man smiled at him, almost friendly.

He was handsome, tall with black hair and a spanish complexion. He had a side fringe that covered his right eye. As the motion of the elevator blew his hair around a bit, the slick locks seemed to deny logic, and continue to hide his right eye no matter what.

"Who the hell are you?" Nero demanded.

"Just some guy who's riding the same elevator as you," he replied bluntly.

"Are you the one who made the Hell Gate?" Nero accused.

"Close," The stranger said, "But not at all."

Nero growled, "Then you at least know who_ did."_

The boy cocked his head to the side as if the question amused him, "Maybe. Just know that I am here to help you, that the Hell Gate you came through was erected for the sole purpose of letting you in."

Nero straightened up - not an easy thing to do in a spastic, rickety elevator.

He looked at Nero, with a look that almost seemed to mock him, "Yes, Nero's got to save Dante. That's the jig, no?"

Nero glared at him. It was painfully clear that he was hiding a lot from him.

The man smiled, leaning in close, "But I'd be careful if I were you, Nero. You didn't come here for the reason you think."

"What are you on about?"

His smirk merely widened. Suddenly he shoved Nero against the cage wall, a hand at his throat, the other pinning both Nero's wrists above his head. His knee slid between Nero's legs.

"The fuck are you…-? Let go of me!" Nero tried to slip free but the guy had a firm grip, it was hopeless.

The raven-head chuckled, "Good, It seems the Fever hasn't fully kicked in. That's it, Nero. Struggle. Resist. Fight. Do whatever it takes."

The stranger made Nero meet his eyes, "Whatever it takes, don't let The Fever control you until you meet him."

_"What?"_ Nero gritted out.

The boy vaporised into smoke, and his hold left Nero. The smoke leaked through the gaps in the cage.

Nero's heart was thrumming against his chest like a drum. The Fever…the Fever was going to control him? And make him do what?

He felt it; the burning heat that had been tormenting him for the past two weeks. This heat was going to control him somehow…but…how? He had an idea, but quickly discarded it. Bad shit happened to Nero all the time, but not_ that _kind of bad shit.

It was around that time that the little lightbulb blinked out and the elevator put the brakes on. The sound was similar to a train stopping. Nero got pushed up against the roof of the cage at the momentum. There was a moment of feeling weightless before he crashed back down on his two feet. His hands never left the safety bar.

The scenery changed as the elevator slowed. The rocks opened out to an impossibly huge cavern.

How huge? Well, Nero felt like a flying insect at the Grand Canyon.

Nero could hear disturbing things in the distance, echoing everywhere: screams, millions of chains rattling at once, growls of demons…all sorts of things. Nero couldn't help but note that there was so much red around. Red and black. He was almost convinced he'd gone colourblind.

He looked up to see a swirling storm cloud of smoke brewing above him; a tornado surrounding the hole in the earth from where he'd come from. From his angle, it appeared to be a worm hole.

He looked down through the bars of the cage to see where the elevator headed. He was headed for a tall slender building…no…a Tower. The apex spiralled open like the lens of a camera, not very far, but enough for the elevator to come inside. Now within close walls he suddenly had a feeling of protection. You might think it's stupid to be afraid of sheer space, but you've never been to Hell, have you? Down there, you're afraid of anything, as if the place brought out every possible phobia that existed and planted it in you. You'd have to have immense willpower to not go crazy, the kind of willpower Nero has to pull himself together, and stop thinking that the cage elevator was going to crush him, or demons were going to pop out of the pitch black walls of the shaft.

pull yourself together.

Finally, the elevator shuddered to a complete stop. The room he stopped at was nice, at least. It seemed to be a ballroom; clean and regal with marble floors. The pillars are made from that wine-coloured stone Nero keeps seeing everywhere now. He stepped out of the elevator, a hand at his gun, just incase. There were large double doors in front of him. He took a couple of slow, careful steps towards them. He glanced back at the elevator to see it's still there, the cage doors open, as if inviting him. He was so tempted to turn tail and run back into it too. Go back home and try and stitch things back together again with Kyrie. This place unsettled him. Not because it was unwelcoming_. _But because it was _welcoming_.

The Fever burned underneath his skin, itchy and relentless. He felt bound to keep going, to venture further into the Tower. He felt a connection to this place, in a similar way he felt a connection with Fortuna. His demon side was in the Motherland, he was "Home".

He opened the double doors and stepped into the Hallway. Now that he was here, he had to decide where to go. He felt a tug at his mind. It's hard to explain, but as if he had an internal radar. He went left. Then another left, then a right. He was subconsciously following a route he hoped would lead to the exit. A part of him, however, didn't want to go to the exit. It wanted to stay, have a lie down in a bed. He shook the thought away and kept going. This way. That way. This way. Uh…that way.

Eventually, he opened a door with celtic designs etched into it. He walked inside to find…fuck, he was in a fucking bedroom. What the hell? He went to turn around and leave but…the door was gone. In it's place was a blank wall.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Nero mumbled, feeling the wall, as if he might magically find the door knob underneath the solid stone. That stupid dark red stone - that was what the walls were made out of. It was a part of the Hell Gate, it was everywhere in his dream, and now that he'd gotten around to feel it, it thrummed, and made his devil bringer glow in warning. The stone must have some demonic qualities about it.

_Duh._

Nero swore as he punched the wall. He didn't even leave a scratch. With a frustrated growl he turned away from the door's ex-position, and walked around the room, looking for a way out. Behind the wardrobe, underneath the desk, under the bed. Nothing. He swore again, taking his coat off, along with his sword, but kept his gun on him. He was getting hot, al the layers and carrying all this gear wasn't helping his fever. He placed his gear on the armchair and took on more look around the room, before eyeing the bed.

He felt tired, he hadn't exactly slept well last night, and The Fever was draining him of energy, leaving behind nothing but a burn. As if to tell him, _submit_. He barely had time to hide his gun under the pillow before he plonked on top of the sheets and passed out. He had a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Dante amazes himself sometimes. Seriously. He'd absorbed about half his supply of orbs, but arrived at the Tower with one head, four limbs and an unwavering ego. He was scratched up, but in all honesty his clothes were in a worse condition than he himself was.

The front door was open (a big heavy duty entrance with a very complex looking lock down system installed) and so he took the invitation uncomplaining. He was on alert, but was certain that whatever was in here, was better then out there.

He should've known better, but you get that sometimes.

He stood in what looked like a Throne room. It was huge. Stain glass windows were everywhere. It was practically like a church, but instead of things like Jesus and angels in the stain glass windows, there were pictures of slavery, famine, murder and the conquest of tyrants. Dante's favourite one was the window with the picture of a fat guy sitting on the sofa, drinking coke and eating chips. Totally irrelevant, yet fitting.

Now, he just needed to reach the top of the Tower and he's good to go. He'd seen the elevator descending. It was hard to make out, much less who was in it, but it was a clear ticket out. The only one there was going to be for three thousand years, probably.

Now what begs the question, which door to take?

He took a step towards the farthest one on the left, but stopped immediately when he heard the colossal doors closing behind him. Turned on his heels to see he was indeed locked in, he could tell by the gears working like a clock to close it shut. Tight.

Dante was in for good. He didn't allow himself to be unnerved, but merely smirked, "I guess this means I make myself at home then."

"I guess so too."

Dante turned on the voice to see a latino dude with raven hair standing a meter away, arms crossed.

"Your my host for this evening I take it?" Dante bantered.

The latino shrugged, "Kinda."

"Well, whatever you are, do you mind pointing me to towards the elevator?"

The young man seemed to contemplate this, "Why?"

"Because I have a thing against stairs."

"I mean: why would you want to leave without Nero?"

Dante took a double take, "What?"

The stranger smirked coldly, "Nero's here looking for you. Or he thinks he's looking for you. Poor guy, so confused, so lost, and so, so, utterly vulnerable."

"Where is he?" Dante demanded. The stranger raised his eyebrow at the sudden change in tone, "What have you done with the kid?"

"Me? Nothing. My master…" He held back a chuckle, "…well, for now my master's keeping him locked up. What he plans to do, however, is something for you to worry about."

Dante walked up to the younger male and gripped his collar, "Tell me where he is, and tell me now, before I ripe you in half, _demon."_

"I wouldn't touch me if I were you Dante," The demon warned.

"Oh yeah?" Dante challenged.

"Yeah."

The demon gripped Dante's wrist. A shock travelled through him, his muscles melted like butter, his mind was wiped of all thoughts except "Holy shit". It wasn't something Dante had felt before, and it wasn't something that hurt. Oh no, didn't _hurt_ at all. It's purpose was met though. Dante gasped and let go. The demon kicked Dante in the chest.

He skid across the throne room floor. He collided with a pew which collapsed on impact. Collecting his bearings, Dante tried to sit up, his body was still tender from whatever that demon did to him.

"I was trying to warn you not to touch me, because you don't know what kind of demon I am," The Latino explained.

"What?" Dante questioned.

"Don't bother with clues," said a familiar voice, "He's too incompetent to ever figure it out."

Dante got to his feet and turned. His eyes widened, he was staring at the one person he hadn't seen since he was sent to Hell, and was convinced he would never see again.

"You…" Dante mumbled in disbelief.

A hand clamped over Dante's mouth from behind. Before he could process the mistake he had made by turning his back on the demon, he felt a knife pierce his spine. It must have been poisoned or something, because Dante fell unconscious.

"He's an incubus, Dante," The figure sighed, almost disappointed by Dante's stupidity, and the fact he wasn't conscious to even hear the answer.

The figure shook his head as the Incubus seemingly effortlessly threw Dante over his shoulder, despite the difference in mass.

"I was wondering when Dante would finally reach this place. His timing is incredibly typical, as always. Lock him up in the cell, chain him to the wall and give me the key. I don't want him getting in the way and messing this up for me."

The incubus pouted, "Aw, I can't imagine why he'd want to do that, Vergil."

The blue twin gave the Incubus a blank look before saying, "He's my brother, it's in his nature to be foolish."


	3. Chapter 3

Vergil was so close to opening that Gate, under the unwavering pokerface, he felt a rush of eagerness, but no joy or glee, just a mild "oh, good." By the way, no, I'm not talking about a Hell Gate to escape.

There was a different Gate - I guess you could say it resides in the Tower's backyard - it was a carved from red demonic stone. It was a dead, useless thing when he first found it; an old relic that held a dull promise of power. But now strength welled in it's Pillars; the Promise held strong; The Power to tear down Mundus, and, if the seeker so inclined, even God. There was only one thing left to do in order to break the seal - an old favourite of all decrepit, ominous rituals - The Sacrifice of a Virgin. Vergil had fought, bled, and tore down most of Hell to get to the point he was at now. And he was so _close_...

He was so close to opening Purgatory.

Vergil felt as if things were falling into place _for_ him by this point. Right then - as he walked along side the rows upon rows of bookshelves, gliding his fingers across their thick spines - everything was under control: The Virgin lies dormant in his bed chamber; his dimwit brother who'd been running around in hell for the past year is now finally in chains safely in his cell; and the Incubus has shown no signs of rebellion.

Speaking of whom, The Incubus was sitting not several paces away from Vergil, in an arm chair. However he wasn't sitting in it properly, his feet on one arm rest, while his back against the other. In his hand he had a half solved rubik's cube. He wasn't making much progress on it, but he went at it anyway. Because he was so desperately bored.

"Tell me, amigo," He began to talk, "why's getting all that power so important to you?"

Vergil didn't even look at him.

"I mean, I get that your all emo about loosing your mama and what-not, but seriously, what are you gonna do with all that zing?"

Still no answer. However, he did get a glance of a glare, but that was it.

"And what about your hermano? Has it ever occurred to you that maybe chains in a cell isn't enough? That it would be wiser to show a bit more paranoia? You know... just a little? You've come a long way, amigo, I don't think you'd want to start from the beginning all over again, would you?"

"Dante doesn't matter. Soon I'll be stronger than he'll ever dream."

"Strength is an excuse for not having intelligence," The Incubus told Vergil.

Vergil gave him the evil eye, full on this time.

A heavy, cold silence settled between them. The only thing that could be heard was the quiet click of the Incubus playing with the rubik's cube. The Incubus put on the act of being bored, however, his mind was active with thoughts. He talked a big game, but he wasn't stupid. The Incubus was strong, but in the shadow of Vergil, or Dante, or - Hell - even Nero, he didn't stand a snowflakes chance in hell in a fight.

The moment passed, and Vergil looked away as if he had never looked at him in the first place. The Incubus was still a little on edge - a natural side effect of living in Hell - but truth be told, he was bored. And peckish.

"Hey," The Incubus said eventually, his carefree tone echoing off the walls, "Do you mind if I have sex with your brother for a bit? I haven't gotten laid in _ages."_

Vergil slowly turned to look at him. The corner of his eye twitched, "Excuse me?"

"Never mind," He sing songed.

He kept going with the puzzle until he groaned in frustration, "Ugh, no one will ever solve this!"

The Incubus threw the rubik's cube across the room then laid back with his hands behind his head. Vergil eyed him in distaste.

"Now I'm even more bored," He said, before huffing and getting up to fetch the cube.

"Go check on my brother then, make sure he won't try anything," Vergil told him, just about fed up with the Incubus.

The Incubus had a look in his eye that made Vergil clarify, "No. Don't even think about it. Stay out of his cage and leave him chained to that wall. If you even think about doing anything…"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it: no touching. Jeez."

He mumbled in Spanish under his breath, something along the lines of _"what a cock blocker."_ as he walked away. Vergil ignored him.

* * *

Despite popular beliefs, Succubi and Incubi demons don't go for looks, they go for auras. The stronger the essence the more tantalising they are.

Dante had a very strong aura, the Incubus could feel it from the other side of the door, and it was pissing him off more and more that Vergil said no to indulging him.

"Man, how come all the good ones are off limits?" He mumbled curses under his breath as he unlocked the door.

Dante hung limp in thick, black chains. his hands cuffed and raised so he appeared to be crucified. The chains constricted around his chest, his legs. After being in Hell for so long, Dante's clothes were ratty and bloodied.

Stepping towards Dante's cell, the red devil hunter looked up and smirked.

"Comfortable?" The Incubus asked.

"Never been better, in fact, why don't you come in here and join me?" Dante offered, throwing a flirting look the sex demon's way.

He chuckled, disappointedly, "Oh, I wish I could, but my _master_ says no."

The incubus said 'master' like it was a cute insult.

"Aw, c'mon, just a little fooling around," Dante waggled his eyebrows, almost comically, but being trapped in chains worked on it's own to appease to the demon's kinky side.

"My, my, Dante's flirting with a demon…" The Incubus taunted, sitting down at a wooden chair just outside Dante's cell. He brought out the Rubik's cube from his pocket and started playing with it as he added: "What would Nero think?"

The smirked dropped from Dante's face.

Flirting wasn't working, he'd hopped he could seduce this jerk so he could get the keys and find Nero. But it seems Incubi aren't as easy as Dante originally thought. Who would've guessed that they had restraint?

He tried a different approach; physical doesn't work, now lets get personal.

"Why are you here, Incubus?" Dante asked, "Shouldn't you be making some poor shmuck fall in love with you right now? Getting some sun up on Earth? Eating sundaes on the Beach? Why work for Vergil?"

The Incubus barely looked up from his rubik's cube, "He summoned me for a special case, something an Incubus would be a typical option for."

"What's in it for you?" Dante reiterated, "What was the deal he made? Or are you just abiding because you're afraid of him."

The Incubus snorted a laugh, "I'm not afraid of him, hermano, just cautious. He's got someone very important to me captive."

"I'm surprised anyone counts as "important" to you."

The incubus chuckled again. However, this time, it was more half-hearted. He looked Dante straight in the eye, his mocking smile gone.

"Do you hate your brother?" He asked, seriously.

"Of cause I hate my brother," Dante responded.

The raven head kept eye contact, "Then…if...if you were in danger, and you thought he was the cause, but he saved you…would you be grateful? Would you hate him a little less?"

Dante frowned. The Incubus had a sullen look in his eye, as if this question had been bothering him his entire life.

He actually pondered on the answer, before saying, "No. I wouldn't."

The Incubus cringed a little at that and went back to his cube.

"But," Dante mumbled, "I guess I'd be grateful, not because he saved me, but because the guy I grew up with as a kid was still there behind the scowl."

The Incubus seemed to relax a little at that.

"Why do you ask?" Dante tried to pry.

The latino merely smiled absently as he fiddled with his puzzle.

_What a weird guy,_ Dante couldn't help but think. He kept going with the questions, "Do you have a brother?"

No response, the Incubus seemed lost in memories.

"Is that who Vergil has captive?"

Again, no response. Instead, the Incubus got up and walked out, leaving the Rubik's cube on the chair, solved.

"hold up!" Dante called. But the Incubus was already gone.

* * *

After a relaxing hour of quiet by himself, Vergil decided it was about time he met Nero face to face. No doubt their little conversation would be interesting. He'd only seen glimpses of the spitfire while watching the Earth for an appropriate subject. Vergil's first sight of the kid was when he was taking on a horde of demon's during a patrol in Fortuna. Intrigued by the display of power, Vergil looked into his background. Apparently he was an orphan, adopted into a religious family, and fell for his new sister. Also, a rather big shock, was that he was a half breed. And a Virgin.

No one else would fit the role better then a half breed being sacrificed for another half breed's benefits. It was decided.

Now, it was almost done.

But, a thought in the back of Vergil's head kept nagging at him. _This is too easy,_ it said, _it's all working out too well, and too quickly. _ He couldn't help but agree with it, and hurried to check on Nero.

* * *

Nero woke to a tingling in his skull. It was oddly nice. Goosebumps raised on the back of his neck as fingers combed through his hair. The touch was sending unconditional shivers through his body, sending his hormones on auto-drive. But he quickly snapped out of it, and opened his eyes. He saw the stranger from the elevator standing above him, a hand in Nero's hair, petting it. But it was in no way loving, no_._ I have no idea how you nurse someone sarcastically, but the incubus was able to pull it off.

Nero's fingers curled around the handle of his gun under the pillow, and in the next second, the barrel was aimed at The Incubus's forehead.

He merely cocked an eyebrow, "Are you always so aggressive?"

Nero pulled the trigger, and Blue rose made a harmless _'click'_…

...No bullets.

The Incubus smirked, "I'm not that stupid, c'mon, hermano."

Nero knocked his hand away and stood up, eyes damn right murderous, "Don't touch me. Just stay the hell away from me."

He raised his hands in mock surrender, "Okay, I get it, you're still heckled by that time in the elevator. Really, just forget about it. If i'd wanted you in that way, like_ really_ badly, I would've done it by now."

"The hell do you want with me?" Nero growled.

The Incubus pouted his full lips. Nero's eyes slipped onto them, before quickly looking the incubus in the eye again. It was a strange thing, having to force yourself not to look at things you usually never, _ever_, look at. Like the tautness of a man's biceps, or the curve of his jaw, or the way his jeans fit his…

Well you get the drift.

Nero was seeing all of it, and he was having a hard time snapping out of it. The Fever was making him feel groggy and hot, like trying to focus while in a steam room.

The Incubus, apparently found all of this funny. He'd be a lier if he said Nero wasn't good looking, or if he wasn;t attracted to him in anyway, but he wont try anything, because Vergil would never hear the end of it.

"I don't think you want to know what's in store for you, Nero. So I'll just move you on."

He took out a gun; it resembled a dessert eagle, however it was ebony black and had a rotary dial on the side, like an old fashioned telephone, except with strange symbols instead of numbers. He handed it over to Nero without saying anything, then held up a key ring.

"The red one opens all the doors of this Tower, the bronze one opens Dante's cell, and the black one opens his chains. Use my gun when you're in a tight spot. Sorry to say, but it doesn't come with a manual. Got that written down?"

"What?" was all Nero could say.

The Incubus chucked Nero the keys. Nero caught them, but when he studied the keys then looked up, the stranger was gone. Again.

Before he could try and decide wether he was being played, the room shivered, and the door reappeared, as if emerging from the demonic stone. Nero walked over to it and opened it. To his relief, it was the same hallway he had come through before. He went back to grab his stuff - including the Incubus's gun - before exiting the room. He looked to his left and saw a stairwell. He headed for it, his internal radar guiding him again. This time, he had a feeling it wasn't going to guide him into another bedroom lock-down. At least he hopped so.

He absently scratched an itch on his stomach. As a result, the itch flared, to the point where it sent his entire body quaking and he had to grip the railing to stop himself from falling. He took a shaky breath before continuing. There was another itch at the back of his neck, and he stopped himself from scratching it.

His Fever was getting worse. In a very weird way.

* * *

**Procrastination, is an aggravating disease. I'm sorry, I've been very lazy lately. Actually no, not lazy, I've had too much to do and this is a side effect.**

**Also I've been playing DMC: Devil May Cry. Hehe. Which is a pretty cool game BTW. Not _awesome_, but pretty damn cool.**

**Anyway, I'll try my best to motivate myself a bit better! Hopefully the next update will come next week ON TIME!**

_**Cheers!**_

_**Luna.**_


	4. Chapter 4

Lucky Dip. That was the name of the gun, and the incubus knew Nero doesn't know how to use it, and probably will never try to use it. Dante, however, might have more game to try it out. That was what the incubus was counting on; the older hunter's love for new toys.

It was a dangerous bet, but it was all he had up his sleeve. It's already done; he'd freed Nero, and will soon have to face the wrath of Vergil. No going back now.

What made it worse was that Nero was walking around with The Fever pumping in his system.

He remembered the effects of the Fever, the stages of it. He also remembered the deal with Virgil, and Virgil's plan.

* * *

_"Do you know the last sacrifice needed in order to open Purgatory, Incubus?" Vergil had asked him._

_"You have to kill a virgin, correct?" He had guessed._

_"No, not kill them. Deflower them. To break the lock, you have to break innocence," Virgil corrected._

_The Incubus grinned mischievously. _

_"Now that sounds a bit more my speed. So, do you want me to seduce some poor, sweet, random dama to come down to this delightful little place and give herself to you? Or do you have…" The Incubus cleared his throat, "…any special requests?"_

_Vergil allowed a brief flash of a smirk to dance at the corner of his lip, before saying, "I don't go for humans if I can help it, incubus, and certainly not a human woman unless if I'm in dire need of release."_

_"Oh," He said, nodding, "So, you want someone in particular?"_

_"There's a boy in Fortuna. He's a half blood, a strong one at that. And he's a virgin."_

_The incubus grinned up at Vergil, "I think I might know that one. Nero isn't it? He helped your hermano defeat that old religious dude."_

_"How does this work, Incubus?" Vergil cut him off._

_The Spanish demon tsked, "I'll give him something called The Fever. It works by it's name sake, basically starting off as heat. Then becomes urges, tugs at the mind to guide the victim to the predator. The Victim will slowly grow more lustful as the days tick by. Once in the predators territory however, the Fever grows stronger as the **hours** tick. Unavoidably, the victim ends up in the predators grasp, submissive, and completely aching for a fuck." _

_Vergil's face was blank, but there was a glimpse of a twisted smile at the corner of his lip. _

_The incubus pretended to linger on a thought, "Now that I think about it, maybe just because he's a half-blood doesn't make him your choice. I'm guessing this rabbit hole goes a bit deeper than your letting on, no?"_

_Vergil gave nothing away in his expression, and merely stated, "He's worthy. Get him."_

_The incubus raised his hands, "Alright, get the portal up and running, and we'll see how hard I can make this puppy fall."_

* * *

Nero was in a room full of shelves that went up to the roof. On the shelves were lies among piles of rags. They were multicoloured rags that looked so worn that they might've been soaking in a well for the past decade, and of any recently been wrung out. Under neath each pile, Nero could see the glimmer of metal.

A pile of the stained rags sat in the middle of the room. Probably fell down or something. Nero felt inclined to stay a few steps back, and he was smart to. The shadows of the room suddenly moved; crawling along the floor like a sea of cockroaches towards the rags. They filled them up like a hot air balloon, bloating them. The rags inflated until a familiar abomination stood wobbling before Nero.

"Well aren't I glad to see you here," He monotoned.

The rags on the shelves began to inflated as well, lifting up and pulling all sorts of weapons with them; scythes, knives, saws - until they formed the very brand of demons Nero had grown accustomed to; Scarecrows. Hundreds of them in the one room, their twisted giggles echoed off the walls.

Nero gripped Red Queens handle, "I had no idea the circus was in town."

He revved her up and flames licked along the pristine blade, ready to cleave through these clowns.

The Scarecrows came at him with surprising agility, despite their obvious struggle with balance. Like I said, he'd grown accustomed to their kind, and was now too strong for them to be considered a legitimate obstacle. He dealt with them quickly, slicing straight through them as if Red Queen was slicing air. Twirling and dodging effortlessly like an elaborate, deadly dancer.

When the last Scarecrow exploded into black dust, and he had quickly snatched up the orbs that fell from it's carcass, he sprinted off, determined not to waste anymore time.

After many twists and turns Nero arrived at his destination. Nero looked down the hallway he felt he was suppose to go, and saw a door with barred windows at the end. If that wasn't the door to the cells then he didn't know what was.

Looking around, Nero was relieved to see the hall perfectly unguarded and without any surprise traps.

He strode down the hallway happy not to have to face any last minute troubles.

* * *

Vergil found himself hurrying to Nero's room when he was getting close.

The virgin trapped, Dante trapped, the Incubus tranquil, It was all coming together too easily, and he knew - hejust _knew_ - that easy comes with a price; failure.

The first thing that began to unsettle him was the sight of the door wide open. The second was when he entered the room and did a full turn, he saw the room empty of life.

_"Damn it!'_" He roared. He smashed his fist into the demonic stone wall, the strength of the impact formed a small web of cracks. Rigidly, but swiftly, he left the room in a blur of cold blue.

* * *

Nero tried the key he was given on the door, and let out a breath of relief when the door opened. He bolted inside, closing the door behind him, and looked around.

Nero's smirk disappeared when he noticed that all the cells were empty; no sign of Dante. One cell had chains in it; thick black chain, the cuffs stained with fresh blood. Nero's heart felt as if it had stopped, His Fever bearing down on his chest like a hot iron prod. His ears popped, and he started to get a serious headache.

He was worried out of his mind.

Then something red fell from the ceiling with a crash, landing a meter in front of Nero. Of cause, it was Dante. The older man stood and dusted off his coat. He still hadn't looked up, but when he did his face lit up with an unreadable emotion. Immediately, despite the jump scare, Nero relaxed.

"Dante," He sighed. he was embarrassed afterwards when he realised how…passionately, he said the name. He cleared his throat and smirked, "You always knew how to make an entrance."

"Kid!" Dante said, taking a step towards him as if he were going to hug him, but seemed to decide against it and just said, "what brings you here?"

"I'm here to bail you out."

"Really? Well that's a switch."

They both stood there for a moment, smiling at each other. Dante had the strange urge to tackle Nero with a bear hug - as if he had been reunited with a long lost puppy or something - but he held it back as to avoid any awkwardness.

Nero scratched the side of his nose when he realised he was acting a little disturbing, just standing there staring at Dante like that. He blames his Fever for making him drift off easily.

"How did you get out of your cell?"

Dante pointed to the ceiling and Nero saw there was a hole inside Dante's cage as well. That's what Dante was doing in the ceiling, he had literally just got out.

"What about the chains?" Nero persisted.

Dante discreetly gripped his left wrist, and Nero noticed for the first time that it was at a weird angle. He snapped it into place and flexed his fingers.

Nero shook his head as he pieced it all together; Dante had dislocated his wrists to slip out of the cuffs then broke a tunnel in the ceiling in order to escape.

"You are one crazy guy," Nero told him in disbelief.

"We're the same, kid, don't ever forget that," Dante added with a wicked smirk.

Just then, Dante heard sounds coming from the other side of the door. A gurgling snarl, echoed by many, many others.

"Time to go," He told Nero in a low voice.

He remembered that sound from when he was out in the fields, mowing through demon's to reach the Tower. They weren't very friendly critters, lets leave it at that, and hope Dante can get out before they can get in.

"Where to?" Nero looked around the room for a second exit.

Dante monkeyed his way up to the hole in the roof, using the bars on his cell door as leverage.

"Up here!" He called down before disappearing inside the ceiling.

"Oh great, from mice in a maze, to rats in the ceiling," Despite Nero's complaining, he followed anyway.

Inside the ceiling was dark and made Nero feel extremely claustrophobic. But Dante soon fixed that as he punched a hole above them and slinked up through it and into another room. Nero was close behind him as the sounds of the Prison door slamming open resonated underneath them, followed by a choked growl that spoke of the demon's frustration.

Dante saw a demonic lead statue and quickly knocked it over to cover the hole in the floor. It may not stop the demon's but it might slow them down.

"Hey Kid," Dante said, "You got any weapons? I might've misplaced mine."

"How about I give you Yamato for the time being," He said.

"You won't have it." Dante told him.

"What?"

Dante took a deep breath in before trying to explain the situation. Nero took the news reasonably well.

"You've got to be kidding me: _Virgil?_ And this guy is your twin brother? You're telling me he locked you in there, manipulated an Incubus, took Yamato, and is now after my ass?"

"That pretty much sums it up," Dante acknowledged, "Although he didn't take it, it's more accurate to say Yamato disappeared from your Devil Bringer and became his possession the moment you came through the Gate."

Nero swore under his breath and began to pace the room.

What else? He didn't have any other weapons beside's Red Queen and Blue Rose…besides…

After a moment of hesitation Nero pulled the gun that the Incubus gave him out. _'Lucky Dip'_, it said in fancy cursive on the grip.

"I've got this," Nero said.

Dante eyed the weird dial-gun, "Great, that'll do."

Nero held it out of reach when Dante went to grab it, "But I don't think it's trust worthy."

Dante smirked, "I'll be the judge of that, now c'mon, give it."

Nero eyed Dante's outstretched hand, the finger's twitching in a "hand it over" gesture. After a long moment of hesitation Nero gave it to Dante. Their fingers touched and a feeling shot up through Nero's arm. He could only describe it as a pulse. It went throughout his body and he gasped as his Fever flared violently in his blood. Dante was oblivious to Nero's quiet phase of discomfort.

The Older hunter immediately began to study Lucky Dip, turning it over in his hands.

The noises grew louder underneath them, before the first bash at the lead statue echoed around the bland room. Dante quickly dialled a number into the gun, Nero couldn't see what it was though.

"C'mon," He said and made his way to the door out of the room.

The lead statue wasn't going to hold, it quivered and even bounced a bit on top of the hole with every bash at it's interior. Dante held the door open for Nero, and the kid bolted past the thresh hold. He turned back to see what the other was up to only to see Dante aiming at the statue, waiting.

_What is he thinking?_ Nero thought, _he doesn't even know if he worked the gun right_.

The statue gave way. Wiry arms with thick, black claws scratched along the floorboards, trying to climb up. Nero noticed that the muscles of the arms moved and writhed like worms under the grey skin.

Dante fired the gun at the hole and the room erupted in black and purple energy. When the electrical cloud faded, there hovered a sphere around the hole, and inside, was a swirling mass of blood and somehow still remaining body parts of the demons.

Nero didn't even know what the hell just happened, or what that gun just did, but whatever it was, it worked. And probably scarred him for life.

Dante eyed the gun in his hand, "Not bad. Lets go."

Dante strode down the hallway. Nero shook his head again in disbelief, then chased after him.

"Do you know where we're even going?"

"No," Dante said, dialling up another number, "But I have an idea."

"That can't be a good sign; Dante actually coming up with his own plans. So tell me, what is this plan?"

"I'll tell you it later, for now I just need you to trust me, kid," Dante told him.

Nero wanted to retort but he found he couldn't. It was strange, he felt tied down to comply with Dante, no matter what. The Fever made him feel drowsy and calm, sweltering hot but tranquil, like when he got himself trapped in the bedroom. It was the desire to give in.

Absolute submission. He couldn't help but think those very words. A tingle ran down his spine.

He sighed in frustration at his own weirdness, "Y-y-yeah okay."

Dante raised a silver eyebrow at him, surprised the kid complied so easily. He smirked despite.

However, his smirked dropped when he heard something coming from down the hall. It was the sound of grinding stone; something big.

"Move!" He told Nero.

"What?"

"Over here! Quick!" There was an indoor grotto just a few strides down the hall. Dante quickly stepped in, pulled Nero with him and slammed them both against the wall.

Before Nero could ask what the Hell Dante was doing, he saw what it was.

Apparently Nero and Dante's escape hadn't gone unnoticed, and this is the security system. Giant flaming boulders were speeding down the hallway.

Thanks to the small grotto, they were being bypassed, but they were stuck in a very tight spot together. The sound of grinding stone was painfully loud, and the boulders kept coming, one nearly right after the other.

Claws dug into Dante's shoulder. Dante cursed under his breath at the slight pain, and looked over at Nero in question. The Devil Bringer dug further into the leather of Dante's coat until it scratched skin. Nero himself, was on fire. His skin crawled and his blood rushed fervently around his body, he could almost hear it. When a jolt ran through him and to his groin, he groaned. It wasn't pleasure and want, it was pain and need.

"Dante," he gritted out.

"What's wrong?" Dante demanded trying to ply Nero's claws from his coat.

Nero began to tremble, his hold tightening. He was loosing it, he felt he was going crazy.

"Dante," Nero gasped as he pressed himself into Dante against his conscious, "punch me!"

"What?" Dante was trying his best to stay cool, but he was quickly loosing the facade, "Why?"

"Just...fucking...hit me!"

The boulders finally stopped coming.

Dante didn't know what else to do, so he brought his fist square into Nero's jaw, and the kid fell, his grip finally letting go of Dante.

On the cold stone, Nero cooled down a couple of degrees, his mind cleared, and his body calmed down. He was so relieved to be out of it, he didn't care about the ache in his jaw. Dante helped him up, despite being a little weirded out.

"What's with the BDSM all of a sudden, kid?"

Nero dusted himself down, avoiding eye contact, "It's nothing just...lets just put it behind us and keep moving."

* * *

Dante could not bring himself to put it behind him. The pure lust in Nero's voice, contradicting with his demand for Dante to knock him out was, more or less, fucking confusing.

It wasn't enough that Nero was clawing him like an irritated feline, nor that Nero's voice was spurring naughty images in Dante's head, but the thing that nagged him most was the fact that when Nero pressed into Dante, he felt something stiff jab into his thigh.

Awkward? Oh yeah.

But he wasn't complaining. Oh no.

What is there to complain about? Dante remembered Nero from the saviour incident, the zest he displayed in spades, that fire, and those fine as hell legs.

What can he say? He's drawn to sexy people that like to beat the shit out of him. However, his luck with such woman are poor, and to be honest he's curious as to what Nero would be like in bed. He's had quite a few…guesses. He's had Nero's legs wrapped around him once before, and god forbid Dante will never forget that. Imagine having those banging legs around him once more, this time without clothes getting in the way of skin contact.

Dante chuckled impishly out loud, which earned an eyebrow raise from Nero and a; _"You okay there, old man?"_

While Nero was determined to put all awkward, sexually tense moments behind him, Dante was eager to get them kicking up a notch. He didn't know what that moment in the grotto was about, and it shocked him the way Nero was acting, but more moments like that wouldn't be all that bad. Probably best though that they save it until a later date. Because this isn't exactly the time or the place. There's work to be done.

* * *

"What's going on here!?" Vergil roared.

The Incubus looked up from the book he was reading and pulled an innocent expression, "_Problema omego_?"

The tip of a holographic blade sprouted from the page he was reading. He chuckled softly and threw the book to the side, "Temper, Temper."

The summoned sword vaporised and left a slash in the hardcover. It was blatantly clear that Vergil was not in the mood to be played with, but it seemed the incubus was uncaring for his life.

"Nero escaped, freed Dante and ran off with him," Vergil gritted, glaring down at him.

The dark haired man scratched at his jaw, "did he? Huh."

Vergil towered over him, "You said you had given him the Fever and that he'd come to _me. _So, unless you want me to cut _your _brother into fine shreds, incubus, you will tell me what the hell happened."

The seducer's eye twitched. Sometimes, he almost seemed to be like Dante; cocky and smooth, but there would be flashes of something sinister in his face, and the resemblance would be ruined. At the mention of his brother, such a flash of madness came to his eye.

"I think I might've accidentally left a bit out…" He drawled.

_"What _bit?" Vergil spat.

"I'm an incubus, not a cupid. I don't make people fall in love, I make them fall into _lust_. That being said, you have to ask yourself this question; which desire is strongest?"

"What are you getting at?"

"I can make that boy hungry. I can make him damn right desperate for a good rump. But I can't make him choose, _exactly_, who to be with. He'll be with what his desires finally succumb to."

"But he came here," Vergil tried to make sense of this, "He came _down here!"_

"Because The Fever told him to. However, I don't control love, that's what I'm trying to tell you. In the end, it comes down to keeping your fingers crossed that he stays on track. He may just come to you, or he may follow his desires and succumb to someone else on the way. In this case, he's gone to your dear old _hermano."_

"So he's given himself to Dante," Vergil concluded bitterly.

"Yup."

"And you are useless."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that."

Vergil shook his head, in both disbelief and slight disgust.

"I gave you a simple task, Incubus: seduce the boy to come to me. That was all. And yet you somehow manage to screw it up with this nonsense. You are a weakling and a waste of time. I have no further use of you."

Vergil drew Yamato.

Just before he could do anything, the Incubus subtly grabbed ahold of Vergil's wrist. The Blue twin stopped and held his breath as the Incubus shot vibes through him to calm him down. The Incubus mentally rejoiced at being able to act quickly enough. Had he waisted a millisecond, he would've been ribbons by now.

"Hear me out, Vergil," He whispered, pouring his Seduction into his words, "Don't be so impetuous. It's not like you. You need to think this through; I am still of use to you."

After a moment of trying to control his anger so it stays out of his voice, he said, "There's no need to bring my brother into this either. Just...hear me out."

He let go and Vergil stood there frozen. Eventually his eyes grew cold and snakelike, but he slowly put his weapon away. He wasn't a moron, he knew the Incubus was indeed still useful. He just needed to be more closely monitored from now on. For instance, find a way to stop him from making physical contact.

"What'd you have in mind?"

* * *

**This was a very long, very lousy chapter, in my opinion. But hey, at the moment everything is lousy to me, funerals do that to you I guess.**

**But hey, don't let me put you down, I hope you enjoyed that chapter!**

**Review, please! Because you totally didn't know you could do that!**

**Cheers!**

**Luna.**


	5. Chapter 5

Dante closely followed Nero through the many halls of the Dark Tower. Dante was becoming increasingly curious as to what was wrong with him. The kid was sweating - a lot. His bangs were even sticking to his cheeks. Hell, Dante could hear his breathing, loud and clear. Dante had suggested that the kid took his coat off, thinking the hot air was getting to him, but Nero just glared at him and said no. He had even blushed a little. Every few minutes he'd rub the back of his neck, or his fingers would begin to twitch - as if tempted to scratch an itch, but something held him back.

Then...adding to it all...was his scent.

It was a strong, musky smell with an earthly undertone, much like sawdust. It was a nice smell. But, weirdly enough, Dante was almost turned on by this strange B.O. At certain times, Dante would find his mouth watering, a sensation he usually only got when a fresh box of pizza was settled on his desk, and opened to unleash a waft of seasoned steam. Now that he thought about it, he can relate to that scenario here. An aroma that whets you're appetite - teasing the desire to take a bite.

Dante eventually shook the thought from his head and decided Nero was a late bloomer and was going through puberty or something, and stopped feeling too much unease. Still, despite thinking this, he couldn't help but eye him occasionally or take a subtle sniff of the air. His demon purred at the back of his mind, vibrating his soul.

"I think we're there," Nero said eventually staring up at large, double doors: the doors to the ballroom floor which held their ticket out of here.

"Good work, kid. I gotta admit. I doubted your sense of direction for a minute there, but here we are!"

"Hilarious." Nero snarked, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his coat sleeve.

Dante walked past him, this small motion alone wafted Nero's fragrance around him, but he held his breath and pushed open the heavy doors.

So simple: home free! Right inside. Dante hadn't realised how much he'd craved home until he'd shoved open those doors, but now that he was only one step away he had to hold himself back from doing a victory dance, or from randomly shooting something. Oh, but Dante should've know, should've realised sooner, that his life always has to complicated.

On the other side of the room, the elevator was gone.

Not "gone" as in "it's just on a different level so hit a button and it'll come". No, it's gone as in...there's nothing there. It was just a broad ballroom. It was like there had never been an elevator there to begin with. For a moment, Nero thought he'd gotten the wrong room. But no, this was it.

'What the...-?" Nero came up behind Dante, "This is the room with the elevator. I _know_ it is, so where's...?"

Nero stopped when he saw Dante trembling slightly. Nero couldn't see his face - his chin was tucked to his chest, so his silver bangs hid his eyes. All Nero could see was the hard frown. Slowly Dante turned away from Nero, and walked across the ballroom floor.

"DAMN IT!" He roared, bashing his fist into a wall. A crumbling hole was made, and the whole room quaked - as if in fear of the Devil Hunter's sudden outburst.

Dante had been in hell for so long he'd stopped counting the days. From day one, the effects of hell had attacked. Phobias - weak, pitiful phobias that would drive a human crazy - were bashing at Dante's mental walls. They had recently been able to leak through, and he'd really gotten fed up of this place. The elevator, his one way out, had been sitting here in the tower for weeks, and it's suddenly gone now. Only now. Right. When. He. Arrives.

Nero stood there, shocked to see Dante loose his cool. He looked around the room, hoping for at least _something_. However it was completely and utterly bare. It even had a distinct echo. With every little noise you made, it would echo it back, voicing it's emptiness and mocking you. Nero looked over at Dante, who was facing the wall he'd punched a hole in. His head was bowed, but his shoulders were squared. His fist were now stiffly by his sides. Nero hesitated, deciding wether or not to go over to him and comfort him - thinking maybe it would be best for Dante to have a minute on his lonesome - before making towards him.

He stopped when he heard someone else's echoing footsteps. It was coming from across the room, which was strange seeing as there was no one and nothing there before; that includes a door. The stranger came into view from behind a pillar, near where the non-existent elevator should be.

It was the bloody Incubus.

He strolled across the ballroom floor, hands in his jean pockets, and his white dress shirt unbuttoned down the front to reveal his shoulder holster. One of the weapon holsters was empty, the other held a slick black knife. He was grinning, mocking them, the empty echo of the ballroom with every click of his heels almost adding to the joke in his eyes.

Dante turned around to glare at him, "You."

"Yup, me," He said, bowing with exaggerated suaveness, "I don't think I ever properly introduced myself. Feel honoured, even Vergil doesn't know my name. Although, that's because he never bothered to ask, but that's beside the point."

"Tell us who you are, already!" Nero demanded.

The Incubus smirked, before saying, "Damon. My name is Damon."

"What the hell is going on here, _Damon?" _Nero snarled.

Damon put a finger to his plump lips in a hush-hush gesture, "That's classified. However, there's something I can help you with."

Nero scoffed, "And why should we trust you?"

"Because you owe me. I busted you out of that room. I gave you a key, and my favourite weapon. I also have valuable information for you stored up here," He tapped his temple, "For example, _el otra puerta - _the _other_ exit."

"Well, what happened to the elevator? Out-of-order?" Dante walked up to Damon. Nero was slightly relieved to here the jester back in Dante's voice.

"Hmm, yes and no. More accurately to say it's_ permanently_ "out-of-order". I removed it."

"Removed an elevator? How?" Nero inquired.

"I have my ways. I have other tools in the shed just as cool as Lucky Dip, you know," Damon pointed to the rotary dial gun on Dante's person.

"If so, I seriously need to know which home depot you go to," Dante retorted.

Nero walked up and smacked Dante on the back of the head. He was getting a bit too carried away.

"Why would you remove it, if you wanted to help us?" Nero asked.

Damon sighed, "Because of Vergil. I can't let him get all suspicious on me, so I have to do these sorts of things now and then. You understand."

"No, I don't."

"Anyway," Dante said, "You mentioned another way out, right? You said you knew where it was."

"Indeed I do," Damon grinned stepping closer.

Nero felt a little...cautious...with how close Damon was getting to Dante. Damon looked harmless enough, if you ignored the sinister black blade dangling in a holster and the dark circles under his eyes from insomnia. There was also something in his aura that felt off...tingly. It must be the fact he's an Incubus. Whatever the reason, he didn't want his acquaintance too close to this guy; Damon made Nero feel protective of Dante.

No, not protective.

The word is _possessive._

"So, what do you say? Will you trust me? On just this one thing? I think I've earned the right to be in the friend zone here, at least," Damon gave Nero a glance, before quickly flickering his impish gaze back on Dante.

"Hmm," Dante put his hands on his hips, and looked over at Nero.

Nero was still looking a bit flushed; his pale cheeks have taken on a permanent rouge, as well as his neck. The kid was looking at Dante in a way that obviously said "Damon is not to be trusted." Dante took it into consideration, before shrugging it off. It was risky and stupid he knew that but if life has taught him anything, it's that taking risks are sometimes the best way to move forward...and that pizza is best served without the olives.

Dante turned back to Damon and said, "Alright, where are we headed?"

Damon gave a small, toothy grin, "Down to ground level. Back the way you came."

"Oh, great," Dante mumbled. Nero had thought the exact same thing, "And then...?"

"And then once you've found the throne room, go through the red door. If you follow the sounds of screams and running water, you'll have arrived at your destination."

Nero tutted, "Running water and _screams_, huh? Nice."

"It's from the Plains of Torture. If you hear screaming it means your outside. No matter where you are the moment you step outside you'll here screaming. Right Dante? You should know this, you've been here longer then I have."

Nero blinked, before looking over at Dante in mute shock. The Red Devil Hunter wasn't giving anything away in his expression, just casually nodding and thanking the Incubus, in a way to Josh him.

"Oh, by the way, Nero," The Incubus gave the young man a once over, taking in his flustered and dishevelled look, "Try and keep it under control until _after_ you arrive at the Gate, okay?"

Nero caught his breath at that. Dante looked questioningly at the two, trying to figure out what he was implying. Did it have anything to do with what happened in the grotto? Damon merely grinned, before vaporising into black smoke like an evil genie.

Not wanting to be in this empty ballroom of disappointment any longer, they swiftly left, heading for their new destination oblivious to the Incubus's deceitfulness.

* * *

"Hey Nero, you seem a bit hot under the collar lately. Mind telling me what's up?"

A half-assed attempt at getting Nero to open up, unsurprisingly got a dismissive remark...

"It's fine. Probably just the heat getting to me. I think I might have a fever or something...I dunno. It's nothing big."

"Nothing big, eh? If you think it's a fever, you should probably pay attention to it. I mean, we're demons; we don't get sick. If you've got a fever then somethings wrong."

"Why such the worried mother goose, Dante? I'm fine, seriously."

He wasn't. There had to be something wrong. I mean, c'mon, Dante wasn't a complete idiot. Nero's abnormal Fever; The moment in the grotto; the Incubus's statement...Dante had already realised that Nero has most likely took some kind of aphrodisiac, or that bloody Incubus did something to his hormones. He hasn't entirely gotten it down on paper just yet, all he knows is that the kid is hot and bothered and the Incubus is to blame, maybe even Vergil as well. When, Where, Why and How are still a blank, but at least he's got the Who's and What's figured out.

Nero was walking ahead of him, his long legs carrying him at an impatient pace.

"Kid, talk to me," Dante prodded, catching up easily.

"There's nothing to talk about Dante. I just want to get out of here."

"Ah, yes. Get back to your awaiting damsel, right? Kira, was it?"

"Kyrie..." Nero said her name barely above a whisper, steps slowing to a casual walk, "...she's...she's not waiting for me this time."

"...Oh," Dante said, before elbowing Nero in the side, "Well, no matter, there's plenty more fish in the sea. I mean, c'mon! Life's only begun for you! Who knows how much booty you're gonna get with a pretty face like that, eh? I bet my life savings that when you get back, girls are going to be hiking there skirts up everytime you pass them! You'll be like a mini-me."

Nero stared at him, horrified he would imply such a thing, before shoving him away with a nervous chuckle, "Jesus christ, old man!"

Dante laughed back, "_Old man? _How could you possibly say that?"

"You keep calling me a kid, so that makes you an old man, _old man."_

"Don't be a smart ass, _kid."_

The two shared a moment of mirth. It was refreshing...relieving...as it lifted an insidious burden from both their shoulders. Absorbed in each other so heartily that for just a moment, Hell had become Heaven. Dante put a hand on Nero's shoulder, as to stop him from moving, as they had come to a room neither recognised. It was a large, dome shaped hall with six large pillars. Each pillar appeared to be a shapely woman holding the roof on her shoulders. Veins grew from under the feet of each marble figure, winding up their naked bodies. The hall had almost a dozen doors.

"Damn. Which one do we go through?" Dante put a hand on his hip, and eyed each door.

Nero had a quick solution to this: eenie meenie miney mo. But when he chose his door and went to go for it, Dante's grip on his shoulder tightened in a way to keep him from walking away.

"Hold up a second, kid," Dante told him, before walking up to a pedestal in the middle of the room. The pedestal Held the statue of a smaller version of the large female pillars, she was holding a compass in the palm of her hands, and her white marble hair hid her face. engraved on the side of the pedestal was some kind of riddle - Dante hated riddles.

"One chose too many Paths

While humble Maidens chose one.

A stubborn fool who rejects their help

will succumb to the Towers fun."

_Humble Maidens,_ Dante thought, looking up at the pillars of the marble women. He gestured for Nero to follow him, walking towards the door to the East. Nero mumbled something under his breath but Dante didn't pay any mind to it. Nero stayed in tow as Dante pushed open the door. Upon entering, it closed behind them immediately.

"Huh, Deja Vu," Nero mumbled, "It's the same room."

Yup: the _exact_ same room. Something seemed different though. It took Nero a while to realise that the pillars - the Marble Maidens - had all been facing the same way when they first arrived; East. Now they were all facing West, their curved pallid backs to the Two Devil Hunters.

"The statues...they move," Nero noted.

"I think their facing the way we're suppose to go," Dante added.

"That sounds familiar," Nero mumbled, as they went through the door the Maidens were facing.

They followed this theory for a while. Each time, they would come back to the same room and the Marble Maidens would face the next door. Eventually Nero had begun to whine, "How long do we have to keep doing this?"

"Until we get the right door, I guess," Dante told him.

"What if this isn't where we're suppose to go? What if we're suppose to go the _opposite_ door the Maidens are facing?"

"No way, that's gonna get us in trouble, _'a stubborn fool who rejects their help...'_ that being you _'...will succumb to the towers fun,'_ when they say 'fun' I'm guessing they don't mean 'amusement park for Nero'. So we'll follow the rocks."

Nero didn't like it, but he kept following him anyway. It was a shock that Nero was being obedient.

Finally, something changed. The Marble Maiden's were facing a door, but it was blocked by that damned Crimson Stone.

"Oh c'mon!" Nero cried.

Dante walked up to the dark stone and casually rapped his knuckles against it as if knocking on a door. He stepped back and mused, "Well that seems pretty solid to me, it ain't coming down from brute force."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Nope. Guess we have to..."

The room began to tremble. An earthquake it seemed; one that made dust and stone fall from the decrepit dome ceiling. It wasn't an earthquake however, it was the Marble Maidens. They were turning to face the centre of the room, their beautiful white skin cracking and crumbling away to reveal their true interior; the garnet red stone. The Maiden's previously blank white eyes became sunken and black, the vines that weaved up their bodies shrivelled at the touch of the statue's demonic nature. The floor then dipped at the centre like a shallow bowl. The Stone blocking the door became a molten mass, flowing down the slope of the floor - slithering around Dante and Nero as if it were alive - and pooling in the middle of the Possessed Maiden statues. The trembling stopped, the room now upgraded from surreal and pure to down right twisted.

"Neat," was all Nero said, before moving forward without a second thought.

Dante followed beside him.

* * *

Beyond then, they had come across many twists and turns within the Towers incredibly annoying layout. The halls weren't always empty, they came across many forms of beasties. Nero's fighting skills had improved. No longer the too head on, to brash spitfire; now he was the more precise, more elegant, occasionally brash spitfire. Still, as Dante cleaved threw demonic hides with Rebellion like some kind of dark Guardian fallen from heaven, he would glance over at Nero fighting with the same passion and zest Dante had become fondly familiar with. He was relieved really, that the fiery kid from Fortuna that had dropped kicked him in the face hadn't changed for the worst. Not at all.

Lucky Dip was a great help, and a great stress reliever. It's power was epic, and sometimes humorous. It turned a Hellhound into a Chihuahua at one point. Another time it had become a flame thrower, greedily engulfing an entire sea of demons. Dialling up a number took time though as he had to wait for it to wind back to zero every time he dials a single digit, just like any old rotary dial phone. Eventually, whenever they get surrounded, he had to put it away and go back to using Ebony and Ivory - it was just taking up too much time to play lucky dip with Lucky Dip. However back to the demons...

Dante couldn't help but notice that the demons weren't blocking their path, but pushing them forward: like guard dogs barking at the heels of the flock. If the two of them dawdled for too long, the dogs would be there to shepherd them on. Dante didn't like the looks of it. Not one bit.

After so long, they had arrived at the throne room. Out of breath and out of patience, Nero shoved open the red door. It led down a dark corridor. There was a sinister orange red light at the end of the stretch. As they made for it, the sounds of scream and running water grew increasingly louder.

A chill went down Nero's spine, and he unconsciously moved a bit closer to Dante as they finally reached outside.

* * *

**Hoped you liked that! and Hurray for a chapter with over 3,000 words! Phew...**

**Hmm. I feel like I should explain Lucky Dip:**

**Basically it's a devil's arm with random effects. It could summon something, explode something, or turn something into a sheep or other cute harmless animal. However, it's not a very ideal weapon for battle, as it does take up time to dial in random numbers. It's a fun gun, but not extremely useful, but it has a purpose in this story. Just putting some facts out there...**

**Cheers!**

**Luna.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Oh my goodness I am so sorry for my slackness! ****Too pay for my insolence, 5,000 words! Yes. And a juicy scene.**

**Cheers!**

**Luna.**

* * *

The ceiling of hell glared down at them red hot. They were in some sort of courtyard or garden, black spindly trees arched above them, blood red shrubbery mingled with sinister looking vegetation. There were fountains in the garden; the source of the sound of running water. the statues in the fountains at first glance looked like baby cupids, but on second glance, you'd see they were chubby imps with bat wings. Thorns writhed between the garnet stones underfoot like possessed weeds, flowering with ugly looking black buds. Dante almost felt satisfied to crush the weird plants with his boots.

Up ahead, towering over the courtyard was the gate they were looking for, or so they guessed. Easily 30 meters high it stood, made from The Garnet-like Stone. Dante stepped out of the garden and found it opened out. There was a broad stone platform in front of the gate. Pillars, the marble maidens from before, now red and demonic, surrounded the platform, heads bowed as if intimidated by the Gate. There was one more thing...

There was a large altar in the middle of the platform, and it was inscribed with weird symbols.

The most unnerving thing about that altar though, was the bloody red stone interior it was made of. Ever since the two of them came to Hell, at nearly every turn there was that same stone. More importantly, the Gate was closed. And the idea of an altar being used didn't sit right with Dante.

"Great, thanks a lot Damon, an instruction manual would've been nice right about now...or a key. Or both," Dante muttered to himself.

"...yeah," Nero mumbled.

Nero's condition was getting...weird. He rubbed the back of his neck and shivered when the simple touch of his own hand tingled his skin. He blinked several times as his vision began to blur. He felt hot. He felt like he was cooking. He removed his coat and threw it to the ground. He ran both fingers and claws through his damp hair. It sent electricity through his brain and down his spine. Everything was more acute; the heat, the feel of sweat trailing down his neck, the sound of running water and screaming, his own breathing, the rush of blood in his head like the sound of the ocean inside a seashell. Smell and taste: he could taste blood on the air, he could taste and smell emotions as well. There was fear, anger, pain, and there was desire...coming from _him_. Coming from Dante. It was only in small doses, it was a repressed emotion, but he could smell it and taste it on the air. It made the roar of blood in his ears louder, the tickle of sweat more agitating on his skin.

"Kid?" He heard Dante say.

"Nothing's wrong," He said automatically, then cringed when he realised Dante hadn't even asked anything yet.

"C'mon kid, talk to me," Dante prodded, planting a hand on Nero's shoulder.

Nero reeled on him, shoving the older hunter against a pillar at arms distance.

"Don't. Touch. Me," He growled, his eyes glowing red.

Dante stared at him in silence. His reaction to Nero's outburst was unreadable. Nero's breathing became louder in his own ears as…something…a new feeling pulsed through him. He was certain it was his fever, but it was a different kind of burn then just hot. It was like touching a large plasma lamp. That is, of cause, if a plasma lamp could touch your entire body at once. It welled inside his heart; in the pit of his stomach; in his very core. He barely noticed that he was no longer at arms length. Nero crashed his lips into Dante's.

At first it was too rough and too needy; too much teeth. But as Dante grasped Nero's head in his hands; fingers weaving through platinum locks; an expert tongue finding it's way inside Nero's mouth, taking control - the kiss became a fluent clash of talented lips.

It didn't take a genius to know that now was not the most ideal of times to be doing this, but Dante didn't care, and Nero certainty didn't either. He pressed himself into Dante, so thigh touched thigh, chest touched chest, and mouth melded with mouth. A sensation like your soul being pulled from your body caused Nero to growl into Dante's mouth. His devil bringer trailed down Dante's body, over the numerous buckles strapped across his torso, to the buckle that held a most desired cure for his febrile rapture. The buckle was easily discarded, and the devil bringer dived into his leather pants without hesitation.

However, Dante pulled away and yanked at his wrist, "Wait a second, what-...?"

Dante stopped when he saw Nero's eyes; blood red, and vacant of anything but lust. Not even Nero's normal zeal was home, just...raw, untamed and Feverish lust. When Nero went to take Dante's lips again the older pushed him back, "What's happening to you kid? What the hell's wrong with you? Answer me!"

It was Dante's turn to shove Nero against a wall at arms distance, his forearm at his throat, his other hand kept both Nero's wrists above his head. The impact shook Nero up, and he blinked up at Dante. He was shocked to find that the elder was staring at him so furiously.

"Dante," He gasped, "What the hell are you doing?"

"What am _I_ doing? What are _you_ doing?"

"Trying to _breath!"_

Dante stepped back, letting go of Nero's wrists and taking his elbow away from his throat. Nero staggered away from the pillar, rubbing his throat. He looked down to notice a very embarrassing problem.

"Oh god..." He quickly tried to hide the tent in his jeans from Dante, only to realise Dante was also sporting one, and that his pants were missing a belt.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Nero yelled.

"Hey, you came on to me, kiddo, don't go acting all innoce-" Dante cut himself off when he realised what was going on, "Your Fever. Your Fever is acting up."

A chuckle echoed around them, "Bingo. Right on schedule too."

Damon sat cross legged on the altar, neither Hunter knew when he got there, he probably did his evil genie trick. He was grinning at them, head titled as if he almost pitied them, but his eye showed the same glint as a child getting ready to see a grand performance.

"Wha...you again?" Nero growled between pants.

Damon whistled, "Looking good Nero. Looking good."

"Oh, shut up...!" He snarled, but he was quickly loosing his way again. He leant against the demonic pillar.

"What's the game? Tell me, I'm feeling kind of left out here," Dante jestered, before his expression went more on the serious side, "I'm also dying to know what your doing to Nero."

The Incubus faked an innocent expression, touching his exposed chest as if Dante had hurt his feelings, "I'm not _doing_ anything to him. Past tense. I've _done_ all I needed to do; long before he came here; and that's inject him with Fever. The _doing_ part..." He patted the altar, with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows, "...is kudos to you. Also, kudos to these lovely red gems I've sprinkled around the place. You see, hermano, Fever dies down after a while if not spurred on. These stones give off a very subtle aurora that stimulate Nero's Fever, not very quickly, not very much, but just enough. The extra motivation we needed was provided through the classic of all motivations for horny teenagers: Flesh. Nice juicy, grown up flesh just hanging around to tease their senses."

Dante laughed, though it was strained as if this whole concept was tempting anger more than amusement, "I knew it, you've shot him full of ecstasy. Or hormones ready for a second puberty?"

"You've...gotta be kidding me," Nero groaned, :This is just my...fucking luck."

Dante looked over at him in time to see Nero fall on his knees and clutch his stomach, Dante went over to him to check he was okay. He did his best not to touch, know understanding the situation, but it was hard. Nero's scent was overpowering, and his shambled state wasn't helping, giving off the impression of submission. Dante's demon liked that, he liked the idea of submission. He liked the idea of this handsome, boyish face and this lean body with it's pale skin and long legs, drenched in sweat, boiling over and submitting to him on hands and knees. The idea of him begging for a cure to his Fever. The idea of Dante - being the good hearted, thoughtful man he was - obliging.

Nero raised his head, pretty boy eyes glowing a hot red and glaring straight at Damon, as he demanded, _"Why are you doing this to me?"_

"Because my goal demands it," Said a monotone voice from behind them.

Dante stood, posture set in a way to appear casual, but at a moments notice, he was ready to spring at the Spanish prick in the dress shirt, or the evil twin in the blue coat. Vergil appeared at the end of the footpath. Dante saw him briefly before, but now he was able to get a good, long, clear look at him. He was more pale than Dante had ever seen him, dark circles were under his eyes, his face was surprisingly unshaven, but his hair was the same - combed back with a few silver bangs flickering across his forehead in the humid breeze. He was still the same cold, satirical, slightly-less-handsome twin he always was. However he looked older, more tired, and agitated about something. There was victory in that posture, but there was also something that was obviously not sitting right with him.

Dante spread his arms as if wanting a hug, "Vergil! Bro, so nice to see you again. And here I thought you had glared yourself to death by looking in a mirror."

"Why would I ever need a mirror if I have you?" Vergil spoke back, walking towards them, slowly, "But the mood doesn't demand a jest, Dante. I have waited long enough for this, I like to think I've been patient, like a good little boy, and now deserve results. You see, I've learned a thing or two down here, while your wading through the ocean of demons in the fields, I'm wading through this towers library."

"Great way to pass the time in hell, eh? books." Dante said.

Vergil rolled his eyes and looked over his shoulder at the garden. The shadows of the demented trees and shrubbery began to quiver, before rushing along the ground and rising, forming humanoid bodies. Tall bulky shadow demons; emotionless and seeming without soul or real substance, just black magic with limbs. Vergil eyed his brother with a twitching poker face. Call Dante hopeful but was that...jealousy? He was a bit confused by that. Vergil's eyes then graced Nero. They lingered there, regretting something, admiring everything.

He then spoke to the shadows, "seize Dante."

Dante immediately went to grab Rebellion, only to grab at air. He glanced over his shoulder to see Damon balancing the grand weapon on his shoulder, examining his nails. _That mother fu-_...

...before he could gather his wits, the shadows had brought themselves upon him, holding him back. There were a bunch of them, all focussing on keeping him at bay, and holy crap, each of them had such a ridiculously strong grip, Dante regrettably has to admit, just one would be a bit of a problem for him. Damon threw Dante's sword to the side, along with Ebony and Ivory, which he had also somehow snagged when Dante wasn't looking. He put Lucky Dip in his holster, for the moment. Nero was picked up by Vergil, the kid struggled but it was so feeble Dante had to bow his head for a second. Vergil stripped him of his weapons as well, but seemingly unworried by his devil bringer. Vergil held Nero in his grasp for a moment, seemingly contemplating something.

"Are you sure about this Incubus? Are you sure it can't be me?" He growled icily.

"It's less of a hassle if it's Dante, omego."

Nero cried out, kicking up his struggles once more, this time with more enthusiasm. Vergil held both his arms behind his back with one hand, the other gripped Nero's hair to wrench his head back. He glared down at Nero, eyes glowing red, and he let his demon move to the forefront of his mind. Staring him down with his inner Devil, glaring at Nero from his very soul, and Nero stopped struggling, frozen in fear.

"So," Damon hums ignoring Nero and walking over to Dante, "How do we go about stopping you from claiming something that ain't yours?"

"What the fuck are you on about now?" Nero growled, eyes closed as he tried to pull his head away from Vergil. Vergil drew his attention back to his brother, watching his reaction to the situation. Priceless. It made a small smile grace his lips.

Damon went on to answer Nero's question, "Well you see, when demon's mate they have a tendency to bite each other on the neck, Nero. That's how they become Mates officially. Dominate's always go first, and if they don't, the submissive won't bite at all; Fun little fact. So if we can just find a way to stop Dante from biting you, we're set to go racing."

"Wait..." Dante's eyes widened as he looked between Vergil agitated face, Nero's unraveling form and Damon's arrogant expression.

Damon seemed to ponder on how he was to go about this. Damon's eyes took on an impish gleam and he gave Dante a tilted smile. Dante wasn't the least bit unnerved when the Incubus gave him a once over in his feeble position. The Incubus may not have been seduced by Dante when he was behind bars, but now that the demon is giving leverage to his staring, he can't help but think dirty.

"Well shock, I just thought of something," He did his evil genie thing. It was exactly three seconds before he came back, noticeably a few feet closer to Dante and this time with something in his hand. He held it up for Dante to see.

"Well thats kinky..."

"It's a ball gag; guilty pleasure," Damon clarified.

"You're a sadistic son of a bitch you know that?"

"I'm not sadistic, I just get bored easily," He grinned as he gripped Dante's jaw, "Now say, 'ah!'"

Damon kneed Dante in the groin. Needless to say, he got the ball gag in easy and quickly strapped it on.

The ball gag wasn't made from rubber, but a much stronger substance, it hurt Dante's jaw, and it agitated his teeth. it was a hassle to breath, so not a minute after putting it on, he was panting through his nose. He sent the fieriest glare he could muster at Damon. Trust me, it ain't easy to glare threateningly at someone with a ball logged in your mouth, but Dante gave it his best shot. Damon however, was just pleased to hear Dante gasp like that. Damon patted Dante's cheek.

Vergil ordered the shadows to tie Dante down on the altar. With a sore groin and the power of these black magical beings, it was done quite easily. Vergil stared at the altar, Dante strapped and gagged to it with his hands above his head. He couldn't believe this, and his grip on Nero's hair tightened. He stared down at Nero, taking in his amazing features, before swallowing his possessiveness and shoving him at the altar. Nero bashed against the side of it, panting, sweating, leaning over Dante, his expression wasn't visible under the bangs from Dante's angle. Eventually, he looked at him, mouth parted, cheeks flushed, eyes red, he spoke in a voice that echoed with a demonic nature, it said, _"Dante." _Nero's lips fell onto Dante's neck and left a soft kiss.

That was the end of gentleness, as Nero climbed on top of Dante, straddling him, his lips descended on Dante's neck again, this time to suck and nip at, tasting him. As he did this, he rolled his hips into Dante's, rubbing their rock hard members together, teasing both of them with friction, so many layers of fabric between flesh. Dante groaned, before mentally punching himself.

Nero's devil bringer tore at Dante's clothes, eager to see his body. Buckles came off like velcro, leather tore like paper, until Dante's torso was on display for Nero's hungry eyes. Dante made sounds that obviously meant 'stop', 'nuh-uh', 'bad Nero'. But either Nero didn't here them, didn't care, or was misreading them. After all, they're just noises through a gag.

Nero, before going for the surviving material of Dante's pants, he began tot ear at his own clothes. He was tired of trapping this excruciating heat in his skin, trying to free his member from the furnace in his pants, seemingly forgetting the purpose of a zipper. He threw the torn rags of his shirt and vest to the side. Denim hung in tatters around his legs. His member was swollen and dripping with precum, and with the head pocking out of his front pocket. Dante would've found it slightly funny if he wasn't so fucking turned on. Nero dived back in to kiss his neck, rolling his hips again, electing a low moan from Dante. He himself, was more vocal. The slightest bit of pleasure was heightened and more acute. Fingers and claws gliding down Dante's toned chest to grab the erection he was still sporting. Nero practically devoured Dante's body, licking and sucking and feeling every inch of his skin, every dip and raise of his muscles. His devil bringer reached behind him. Nero began to breath a little louder, moaning occasionally, it didn't take Dante long to realise he was fingering himself. This wasn't good.

_Nero…please kid, snap out of it,_ Dante thought desperately.

Nero's eyebrows furrowed, seemingly aggravated he wasn't properly prepared. Seeming to not care he grabbed Dante's member and began to pump it.

It all came as such a gigantic shock that it was happening so quickly. Nero was so quick to jump Dante, to climb on top of him and immediately begin to touch him, and himself. Shocking that Nero was acting so animalistic. This was Nero for god sake! The kid who'd dropped kicked Dante in the face for seemingly about to harm his girl. That arrogant, adorable, spitfire, Nero. The idea of _that_ kid...doing this...it was unbelievable. When Dante felt the tip of his dick press into Nero's tight entrance, Dante felt his demon begin to purr, the soft rumble of his devil vibrating his core, rearing up, ready to take what this boy was offering.

He was surprised to feel himself breaching Nero's entrance so easily, burrowing inside of him. Though he was so, so, painfully tight. It felt amazing, absolutely incredible. _This is Nero,_ Dante kept thinking, _I shouldn't be doing this. This is Nero._

But that was only making it worse.

**Yes,** his demon growled, **This is _Nero._**

"This is amazing," Nero whispered heatedly. Almost hypnotically. It was clear he wasn't in his right mind. As he lowered himself on Dante's cock, taking him in inch by inch, he tilted his head back, eyes closed, and a choked moan escaping his lips. Fully sheathed, he began to move, eager for it. Dante held onto his restraints. Nero moved slow at first, raising himself on shaky knees before going back down, body sensitive to the very air on his skin. Nero watched Dante's face, watching for signs that he was enjoying this as much as Nero was. Dante locked eyes with him, and...there was so much in them, he saw desire, he saw regret, though he didn't know which one was stronger. He hoped it wasn't regret.

Nero felt something, something good inside of him jolted every nerve in his body, and he cried out, grabbing on Dante's wrists for some sot of leverage. Nero quickened his movements, more height in the undulation of his hips, aiming for more depth and more speed. More of that feeling that just shot through him.

For a long while Dante tried over and over to talk sense into Nero, but the more he tried, the more he realised he was actually making it worse. His voice was being muffled around the gag, and all it was doing was giving away the fact he was feeling an immense amount of pleasure. Nero's inner walls constricted wildly around Dante, so tight and hot; The sounds he was making bound to be echoing in his dreams for the rest of Dante's short life; Not to mention Nero looked unbelievably hot riding him so fervently. The sounds that escaped around the gag in Dante's mouth, vibrating in his throat, were unbelievably delicious to Nero's ear. Dante, despite his week protests and clear(ish) mind, he couldn't stop his hips from undulating with Nero's movements either.

There he was, chained to an Altar, gagged humiliatingly, with Nero raping him (and/or vice versa), Vergil watching the whole damn thing…and Dante was _responding_.

Who could blame him? If you knew how it felt, if you knew what it was like, you would not speak a whisper of disappointment at Dante's lack of control. Nero's body moved in a sensual dance, rolling his hips into Dante's, taking in as much of him as possible. Nero was lost in the current of things, his very soul quivering with desire, pleasure and fulfilment as he rode Dante as hard as his body could take. He needed this high, he wanted to feel pleasure, to know what pleasure really was.

Nero leant back, slamming down into Dante's lap - his body moving on it's on - so that Dante's tremendous member would bury deep inside, and hit that spot that made him go insane. He called out everytime his body exploded with that desperately wanted sensation.

"I love my job," Damon said at one point, the two on the altar barely noticed him speak.

Vergil glared at him, eyes so cold they practically burned.

Dante began to yank at his restraints, eyes going red. He bit down on the ball gag, and he was thrusting up into Nero with more zest. He wanted to break free and roll them over, he wanted to pound Nero so hard the altar broke. He wanted to hear Nero cry out and scream with that delicious voice of his until Hell freezes over around them, and keep going. Nero's voice grew louder as Dante began to thrust into him with more intensity. He placed his hands on Dante's chest, as he rode harder, Dante hitting his prostate dead on with every earth shattering pound inside of him. Nero closed his eyes, mouth open as he screamed and moaned, his fingers grasped Dante's hair, and he leaned forward, till the junction between his neck and shoulder was at Dante's mouth, Nero's body warranting him to bite him. But he couldn't. Dante growled ferociously around the gag, biting down on it as hard as he could, fists shaking as he felt his devil trigger rearing to let loose. He could feel Nero's teeth grazing his neck, eager to bite, but to no avail, he refused to make the first move.

He felt his climax inching ever closer, he felt the high of it washing over him like a rush of adrenaline, He bashed his head against the altar, his demon furious that he can't claim Nero properly. Nero, his mind too foggy, to ensnared by the feeling of it all to care about anything anymore. His demon was controlling him to keep going, to reach completion. He felt it coming, and he was so ready for it. He reached down to start pumping his own neglected member, as the two of them fucked as hard and fast as they could in their position.

"I'm...I'm gonna cum...!" Nero whimpered as he felt it take him.

Dante roared into the gag as his demon bashed roughly at his mental walls, and his orgasm over came him. Nero felt as if his entire body had spontaneously combusted, his very core exploding with electricity. He held onto Dante as an anchor as he came all over himself, and Dante. It was like releasing the dam.

When it passed, Nero fell on top of Dante, panting, half-gone, half-there. He heard Dante's heartbeat by his ear, a soothing sound, his skin was damp and sticky, Nero stroked the strong muscles of Dante's arms absently as they came down from their high, and bathed in the afterglow.

Nero was so content at that moment, but he felt a slight disappointment, as he drowsily rubbed the junction between his neck and shoulder, where he had hoped for a bite mark to grace his fingertips. Nothing but smooth skin. He blinked a couple of times, before raising his head and taking in his surroudnings. It was only then when he realised what had just happened.

The gates began to open. The sound of grinding metal was so loud it sounded like thousands of screaming people. Inside was pitch black, though the blackness seemed fuzzy. It writhed. The shadows of the garden, and the shadow demons Vergil had summoned seemed hypnotised by it. Vergil made his way over to it, standing in front of it, in an upright stance. Light, blinding white light, webbed out. It appeared alive, writhing tentacles making their way towards him. They latched on, before melding with him, disappearing inside his chest. A turret of both shadow and light being absorbed by Vergil.

It all ended so quickly, the light ended and the gates sealed closed.

Vergil glowed white hot, steaming, his blue coat dyed black. After a moment, it cooled off, his coat going back to it's blue pigmentation, and his body dying down it's brightness.

Nero barely understood what was going on, everything was blurry.

A hand stiffly petted Nero's hair, as if trying to be gentle; it's owner was obviously torn between affectionate and angry. Nero drowsily glanced up at Vergil.

"I just knew you'd do it, Nero. You're strong enough to be a warrior, yet weak enough to submit to what is rightfully greater than you."

Nero frowned, slowly coming to his right mind. Dante was struggling against his chains, trying to cursing out his twin brother behind the gag. Nero was aware of Dante, but he couldn't bring his eyes away from Vergil. Something in his mind told him to be afraid of this man, to submit to whatever he asks of him. No questions. And Nero succumbed to that something. Vergil looked at Dante with growing resentment in his eyes.

"Incubus," Vergil called, "reignite The Fever."

"Hmm? Why? The Gate has opened, the power is yours now, what more do you need from this kid?" He said it in a slightly teasing tone, as if he knew why. He knew, because this was the reason why Vergil didn't have him killed.

Vergil gripped the back of Nero's hair, "He needs to be taught a lesson."

Nero tried to get up, to get away, but he was sore and slow. And Vergil had him. The incubus let out a lazy yawn then snapped his fingers.

The sound echoed, a gust of hot air seemed to blow out from his fingers and hit Nero's body - he wasn't sure if anyone else felt it, but he sure did. A familiar heat came back to him, and his body flared with the need to have something inside him again.

Vergil tugged at Nero's hair, yanking him off of Dante and to the ground. Nero gripped Vergil's wrists.

"Put Dante in the torture chamber, this time, secure him properly, make sure he doesn't ever leave again."

"Woah, woah..." Damon said, "I reignited the Fever, you have the power you wanted. I did my part. Free my brother."

Vergil looked over at him, slightly smug and said, "No."

Damon's eye twitched, "Pardon?"

"You are indeed useful, I may have further use of you yet. Until the day comes when your usefulness is spent, I will give you back your brother."

"You've gotta be kidding me," Damon laughed cynically, it sounded slightly mad.

Vergil lifted Nero from the floor and held him close to his side, the younger Hunter barely lifted a finger in defence, "I'm running this show," Vergil smirked. With a blink of an eye, both him and Nero vanished. No fancy smoke like Damon, just gone. Blink.

despite all this, Damon obeyed, touching Dante on the shoulder and teleporting the both of them to the torture chamber. When he got there, he immediately went to restrain Dante as much as he could. Dante of cause, scored a shot; kicking Damon square in the chest, but he was already mostly restrained by that point. He dangled from the ceiling, toes two inches from brushing the ground. He was left like that, ball gag still place, clothes barely clothes but tatters hanging off of him, back in chains, this time, too tight to even hope of slipping out, even if he broke his wrists like before. As Damon exited the torture room, Vergil's words echoed through his mind. "_I'm running this show."_

_Sorry to disappoint you, Vergil, _Damon chuckled darkly in his mind,_ but you were never running this show._


	7. Chapter 7

**So...took me a while to get back into it, but when I did, I had a sudden epiphany...**

**I really miss this! All this typin' and daydreamin' and pervertin'... *sniff* brings tears to my eyes to experience it once more.**

**Cheers!**

**Luna**

* * *

Kyrie laid in bed, her back to the window, where sunlight poured in to warm her body. The good weather felt like an insult to her grief. She had no idea how long she had been lying there, moping. Nero had left yesterday morning by then, and her anxiety had been getting worse. Something told her he isn't coming back.

She gripped the sheets, and buried her face in the pillow. Nero use to share this bed with her. They never did anything hush hush, some nights she would rest her head on his chest, and they'd fall asleep arm in arm. Warm moments like that...yes, moments that felt _right_, not awkward or pressuring. Just nice. They've known each other for so long, way back since they were kids and nothing had changed between them. She held back a sob at the thought of never feeling another one of those moments again. If he can't be a lover ever again that's fine, she'll accept that, but at least he can be a brother. She needs her brother, the boy who'd gladly shield her from demons, or smile at her - something very few get to see Nero cast their way.

The silence of her house was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Reason cast aside, after all Nero wouldn't be back so soon, Kyrie shot out of bed and ran down the stairs to answer it.

"Ne-...!" She cut herself off.

Well, it was definitely not Nero. Instead a voluptuous woman stood at the door, a rocket launcher strapped to her back. Her eyes were hid behind dark shades. She intimidated Kyrie, her proud poise and scantly clothes contributed to that, but a rocket launcher wasn't exactly a bouquet of flowers either.

"Can I help you?" Kyrie asked softly.

"Depends. May I come in?" The woman asked politely, though her words were edged with impatience.

Kyrie stepped aside, gesturing to the living room. The woman adjusted the strap on her weapon, bringing attention back to it, before striding inside. Kyrie closed the door behind her.

She unslung her impressive firearm as she sat down on the couch, hugging the bazooka against her side as if they were old pals. Judging by her numerous fading scars, that was probably the case.

Kyrie sat across from her on the armchair, fidgeting.

"Would you...would you like some tea?" Kyrie asked.

The woman shrugged, "No, thank you, don't do tea. Got coffee?"

"N-no..."

"Tch, too bad. I could use a couple of mugs right about now, got a raging headache to boost."

"Excuse me for asking but...who are you? What do you want?"

"Oh sorry, excuse my poor manners. My name's Lady, I take it you're Kyrie."

Kyrie nodded timidly.

"I heard you live with a young man named Nero, right?"

She hesitated, "Not anymore."

"And why is that may I ask?"

Kyrie eyed the bazooka, "You _may not_ ask."

Lady leaned over, taking off her sunglasses. Her mismatched eyes struck Kyrie like fire and ice; hot and cold at once.

"Kyrie," Lady spoke to her in a careful tone, "I'm not here to hurt you. Or Nero. I'm here to help. And find a certain bastard man of my own. Just-...hey, stop staring at my weapon, it's not going to bit you. Just tell me, where did Nero go?"

Kyrie bowed her head, weaving her fingers together at her lap, "I...I don't know. He just...left."

"You don't know where? Not a single clue?"

Kyrie shook her head. Lady sighed, falling back into the couch and putting her sunnies back on. She massaged her forehead as she tried to think over something. She was hoping Nero could have some answers as to the whereabouts of Dante. After following his case to a dead end, she had spent the past year jumping from place to place, following up on every mission Dante's been on. It's like the devil had simply vanished. All she's come up with is the worst case scenario: Dante's dead. But there was no way in Hell she was going to accept that. Not dead. Not Dante...the tenacious asshole.

"Okay," She said, "Was Nero acting weird before he left? Did he give any hints as to where he might've gone?"

Kyrie seemed to consider this, "well, he had this really bad fever before he left. Oh, and he had went to look for someone."

Lady sat up again, "Who?"

"A man named...Dante."

Lady felt her heart pick up. Nero had gone looking for Dante as well. What kind of lead did he have?

"What else?"

"Um...well, he said Dante was in trouble, so he just left. Just like that."

"When was this?"

"Yesterday."

_I'm so close,_ Lady thought,_ finally, I'm getting somewhere. _

"Kyrie, please, is there anything else? There has to be something else you can tell me about their location."

"No. I'm sorry, Lady. That's all I know."

"Kyrie..."

"Look _Lady!"_ Kyrie stood from her chair, fist clenched, "_I don't know._ Okay? I have no fucking clue! Do you think I wouldn't tell you if I knew? You think I don't know he's in trouble? You think I want to sit here by myself while he's god-knows-where? Tell me Lady, is there anything _you_ can tell me? If there is, I demand you tell me_ right now!"_

Lady stared in shock at the petite girl shouting so violently at her. Kyrie seemed hysterically mad, completely lost. After a moment she seemed to snap out of it, blinking, before bowing her head and gently sitting back down.

_"I-I'm sorry,"_ she whispered.

"Don't be," Lady told her gently. She contemplated something, before telling her, "The last mission Dante was on was nearly one year ago. He didn't come back. I've been searching for him since. I came here hoping that Nero might have something."

Kyrie looked up. Gentle doe brown eyes glanced past the lens of Lady's shades and into her heterochromia orbs.

"A mission," kyrie whispered, "...a mission to do what?"

"Same old same old, save the world, close some gates."

"A gate..." Kyrie mumbled to herself, "Have you considered that...maybe...Dante went through one of these-..."

"No way," Lady answered too quickly.

"It's a strong possibility."

Lady gripped Kalina Ann. She hadn't wanted to consider it, because she was honestly afraid of the idea. Lady was a brave and strong woman, but not so brave and strong that she's willing to go to Hell to save Dante. But with the subject raised by another voice, she couldn't help but think that it was about time that she admitted it to herself.

"Yes," She said, "It's a very strong possibility."

"And if it's true, what should we do? You say your here to help. So help."

"You're getting a bit of a backbone, aren't you?"

"I-...yes, I suppose I am."

"Well then," Lady stood, "It's about time you gave me a tour of Fortuna's lovely hell gate ruins."

* * *

Nero couldn't remember passing out. He couldn't remember the dream he had either. Even as he came back, the pillow against his cheek didn't feel real. His entire existence had been honed in to a single pin point of sensation - everything else was numb...void. All he could feel was a cold finger tracing down the small of his back. It was as if he was being guided through the labyrinth by a string, twinkling in the dark like a spider's thread. Pulling him back to consciousness. Slowly, effectively. Semi-reality became full reality. Semi-awake became fully awake.

Calm Nero became lively Nero.

His eyes shot open, flinching away from the naked touch. He would've leapt up from the bed if he could, but pain flared in his insides so intensely that his body had reflexively stilled any movements.

Vergil loomed above him, casually seated beside Nero at the edge of the bed. His eyes were a light hue, just like Dante's. But while Dante had a fire reflecting in them, all Nero could see in Vergil's was ice. Nero felt that the touch had not left his back, gliding along his spine, raising goosebumps on the back of his neck. Nero's blood accelerated at the very sight of the older male, his skin tingled at his touch. Gulping, as to wet his dry throat, he said the first thing that came to mind:

"You're Dante's brother."

Vergil huffed, as if to chuckle, but couldn't bother to follow through, "That's the first time I've been addressed as that."

"First time for everything."

Vergil's fingers stopped, and Nero hated how he almost missed it. Vergil didn't keep him waiting it seems, as those cold fingers soon returned to touch his neck, lingering at the junction between throat and shoulder.

"First time..." Vergil muttered.

The blue twin leaned closer 'till the light from the ceiling cast his form in a silhouette. Nero felt his body come alive and heat up as Vergil intruded his personal bubble even more. His lips were surprisingly warm against his own, Nero almost expected every aspect of this twin to be cold, so warmth came as a slight surprise. His insides churned as if he was about to throw up, but the sensation seemed to evolve into one that made his crotch tingle and legs shiver. Vergil's tongue impolitely forced it's way into Nero's mouth, the younger hunter shutting his eyes tight in self-contempt by how easily it was for Vergil to breach his mouth. He felt a moan ready to escape and swiftly changed it to a sigh. A familiar fog creeped over his mind in a steam-room effect. The Fever.

Flaring his nostrils indignantly, Nero bit down on Vergil's tongue.

In retort, Vergil gripped Nero's hair and pulled harshly. At this motion, Nero was yanked away from Vergil, who stared at him with a pristine poker face. Vergil's calm and cool demeanour was beginning to piss him off.

To be completely honest with you, Nero expected Vergil to suddenly climb on top of him and rape him. Or bitch slap him across the face. Or something along the lines of showing dominance or anger towards Nero's resistance. But with a stoic expression, he merely walked away, sat at a chair, picked up a book and began to read. Leaving Nero shaken and confused.

With great struggle - as the cramps in his backside where only becoming amplified with each motion - Nero sat up in the bed. The bed sheets were sheer silk fabric - thin and practically see-through - as the warmth of hell did not require bulky doonas.

"That's it?" He said.

Vergil paid him no mind.

"What the hells wrong with you, huh? What do you want from me?"

Vergil seemed to find books far more interesting then Nero.

Nero hated being taken advantage of, hated being underestimated, but above all he hated being ignored. He threw the sheets off and went to stand up, "Hey-...ah!" When he stood, of cause, his attention was brought to his lack of clothes, and quickly went to grab the sheets, which were unhelpfully see-through.

Vergil glanced up as to humour himself with the display.

* * *

Damon straddled an iron chair, looking over the backrest to stare at Dante's dishevelled form as he contemplated his next move. With the promise of releasing Damon's brother, Vergil had been able to strike up a contract, now that he's broken that contract, no one says Damon has to abide by the rules anymore either. With that taken into consideration, Vergil probably thought that now he had more power, he could continue to drag Damon around on a leash. This time through force instead of a deal. In this case he's ordered him to play guard dog, waiting for the "sick 'em!" command. No, he's worse than a guard dog, at least that kind of beast would get a bone at the end. No bone for Damon, oh no sir-ey, just another command.

A laughable thought at best.

He's got a plan brewing though. Oh boy, he's had a plan brewing since Vergil summoned him. Incubi are masters of deceit, _ergo_, they don't fall for deception. As if Damon had honestly bought Vergil's crap about letting his brother go for servitude. He knew all along this was going to happen. It didn't take a genius.

He took a deep breath, calming himself. All good things come to those who wait, and Damon was in no real hurry. He could sit around and play for a bit, stretch his legs, crack his whip, slice some skin. As for Vergil, well, let bygones be bygones, no? That is until Damon is satisfied himself here.

As the incubus stood, hands in pocket, striding over to the restrained and handsome devil, he couldn't help but think that his plan is going to be on hiatus for quite a while.

* * *

Dante hung in his restraints, tense as a creaky puppet. His body still thrummed with satisfaction, enjoying the afterglow of sex - however loose the definition of 'sex' was. His mind, in contrast, was raging, fighting against his own thoughts of regret and uncertainty. His devil side was scratching at his mental barrier like an angry lion, roaring and shouting incoherently, his reason for his sour mood was heard none the less: Dante didn't claim Nero. He didn't get to bite him. Worst of all - something that made both his demon and his human side boil over with wrath - was the idea that Vergil could be the one claiming him, _right now_.

His chin rested on his chest, head bowed, watching Damon's polished shoes stop not three steps away. Damon titled his head, trying to get eye contact.

"So...how was it?" he asked.

"Where's Nero?" Dante demanded, voice low.

Damon pouted, "Why so serious?"

**"I swear to god, Incubus..."** Dante growled throatily. He looked up as his eyes glowed red and electricity danced across his body. He was on the verge of triggering, however the demon proof restraints stopped him from doing such a thing.

Damon pulled out the black knife from his holster. Up close, Dante could feel something radiating off of it, a faint thrum in the air like a vibrating bass note. The knife was unnerving, something about it didn't sit right with Dante.

Damon grinned, "You like it? My favourite little butter knife, right here. If I use it in just the right way, it can cause an amazing amount of pleasure, or, again, in just the right way, It can cause an insane amount of pain. Or it could make you fall asleep. Imagine using it during sex and getting it wrong? haha, I always though that would be a funny scenario, no?"

Dante remembered how he got caught the first time: a knife he thought that might've been poisoned pierced his spine. That was this knife.

"Aren't you talkative...?" Dante mumbled, "That won't last long...I can tell you that now..."

"Are you threatening me?"

Damon gripped the knife, so it's blade flickered, Dante eyed it. The incubus saw this, and chuckled, "Pretty isn't it?"

"I wouldn't marry it."

"Well, don't worry," Damon said, pressing the edge of the blade against Dante's cheek. It was as cold as ice, "I'll be a perfect gentleman."

Damon's smile was cruel. Dante grinned back, determined not to show fear. Determined not to show him anything, but contempt and mockery. Even when the cursed blade gently bit his skin, beads of blood trailing down his face, and pain - impossibly intense pain - flared from the tiny cut. His eyes stayed hard, and didn't waver as the Incubus had his fun.


	8. Chapter 8

AN/ just thought I'd say, I'm so glad everyone seems to like Damon. I'm one of those people who hate reading a story with OCs, so I was hesitant on putting him in there, and was about to decide not to, before realising there was no working around the gap he'd make. But yay! So glad everyone likes him!

also, guess what? The day I want to update, no Internet! For three days! So, I was either going to wait those three days before updating or doing the whole thing, word for word, on my phone. And you know what? I chose...the phone. Ugh...so, if you notice something doesn't make sense or if there's more grammatical errors then usual, keep in mind thus was all done on phone...

On with the show!

* * *

Nero was in pain.

Vergil was just siting there reading a book, seemingly with all the time in the world, and completely dismissing Nero's existence. Every now and again, Nero's body would quiver. What can only be described as an electric shock shook his core methodically. He could feel his fever kicking up the longer he was near him. His eyesight was blurred and tinged pink. He blinked away the haze. He had a sudden rush of cold sweat and his bones were feeling light and fragile. He wanted to get away from him, and at the same time, he wanted him to be closer. He hated it. Absolutely despised this feeling, To the point where it was painful. He rolled over and buried his face into the pillow, Curling up on himself, unsure what to do. Unsure what Vergil wanted. He thought he was going to be raped for sure, but Vergil hasn't made a move yet.

Emphasise on_ yet. _

Eventually he was able to sum up the will to talk.

"Can I have some clothes?" He called over his shoulder.

Vergil Raised an eyebrow at him before pointing to the dresser next to where He sat.

Fuck, he thought. He got up and wrapped the sheets around his waist a couple of times so the see-through fabric was opaque at the very least. It was a pitiful form of cover up for his dirtied pride. He walked overly casually to the closet. He cleared his throat awkwardly as he opened the door, which was made of glass.

Once again, fuck.

he grabbed a change of clothes and stated at them in the one hand, contemplating how he was going to go about this.

"Um..." He muttered, and proceeded to fumble with his clothes and temporary coverage.

"would you like me to give you some privacy?"

Vergil's voice nearly made Nero jump right out of his bed sheets. He blushed hotly before snapping back, "Yes, I _would_ like you to give me some privacy!"

"fair enough," he snapped the book shut, and left the room, locking the door behind him. With him gone, Nero gladly dropped the sheets around his waist and got changed properly.

* * *

Dante spat blood on the floor. Some dribbled from his bottom lip, down his chin and on his chest. Damon grabbed Dante's hair and yanked his head back.

"you're a tenacious one, aren't you?"

Damon caressed Dante's cheek with the bloodied black knife. He let the sharp edge nick his skin, only enough for there to be a pale scratch, dotted with fresh pearls of blood. He gathered it on his tongue before Dante could heal. He repositioned the knife's tip to the nape of his neck. He watched the blade sink into his flesh, cutting through his spinal cord, where the core of nerves were wired. Dante let out a choked moan as the knife sank to the hilt. The knife was at an angle that blocked off his airway almost completely, with scarce oxygen getting to his lungs, oxygen tainted with blood. Sweat poured down his forehead, which Damon kissed away as if to show affection. The pain was so intense, it was indescribable. Heat flared behind Dante's eyes and colours flashed before them. He could practically hear his cut nerves screaming in his ears. Damon had yet to hear Dante scream, loud and clear. He twisted the knife, earning a sweet groan of agony, which he savoured in hearing. Dante couldn't help but wonder why he was doing this to him. There was nothing he held secret that the incubus needed to know. He hadn't done anything to him to invite revenge, hell, he hadn't even lost a bet at pool. So why? Was it purely because he enjoyed it? So far, yes.

the sound of Dante struggling with air soon began to bore Damon. So he retracted the blade. Damon slowly got to his knees, tracing Dante's spine with the knife, leaving a dwindling trail of red in its wake.

Damon smiled cheekily. The blade's tip was at Dante's lower back. Dante swallowed blood, tying to get rid of the taste of pennines in his mouth. He found himself running through all the things Damon would be attempting to damage should the blade sink again. It was at a strange angle, like chipping wood, which isn't aiming for vital organs, it was more or less aimed for...

Oh...

"Do you know where a man's G-spot is, Dante?" Damon mumbled against his crotch. His other hand held onto Dante's thigh, as to hold him still. He adjusted the angle of the knife, he seemed to know the position of said spot off by heart.

"It's in his ass. Funny, isn't it? Go apparently hates fags, so this is one hell of a design flaw, no?"

"you don't...say?" Dante managed to speak.

"Ooh, bet you know all about that don't you big boy?" Damon trailed his lips across the outline of Dante's dick, "of course, it doesn't feel good unless you're aroused. Are you aroused Dante?"

The blade dug into his spine. Plain flared in every nerve in every part of his body in a chain reaction. Dante tensed in his chains and quickly hissed out, "stop."

Damon stopped, and tilted his head, "why should I? I'm having so much fun."

"I was thinking about..." Dante swallowed his pain, and his stubbornness, "...making a deal."

Damon chuckled, "you're a funny guy."

"No...seriously..I want..to make a deal with you..."

Damon tore the knife from Dante's body. Damon brought the thickly coated knife between them. Dante's expression didn't change.

Damon shook his head in disbelief, "your really going through with this? A deal with the guy who's torturing you?"

"Well, you're not that much of a torturer, you're more of a molester."

"I'm messed up. Untrustworthy..." The blade was caressing the inside of Dante's left thigh, inching dangerously close to his crotch, "...who knows what I could do to you? I mean, I still had a bazillion other things I wanted to do with you before Vergil comes down to check us. Are you sure...?"

Dante smirked arrogantly.

"I never am. I just go with it."

Damon gave a chuckle, his face an inch from Dante's. the knife was pulled away from his sensitive bits.

"Alright then. I'll let you go free. I'll go get Nero and you two can meet up at the front entrance to this tower."

"Awesome. You gonna let me down now?"

"one moment."

"what is it?"

Damon put his knife away before saying, "Remember what I said about Vergil keeping something precious of mine with him?"

"...Yeah?"

"he's still got it. If you get it back to me I'll tell you where the exit is. The _real_ exit."

Dante raised an eyebrow at him, "So, how can I be sure that you won't lead me to another trap?"

Damon sighed, before taking out the still bloodied knife and slitting his palm. The mixed blood dropped onto the floor, spreading out into tiny demonic circles the size of coins. The blood steamed and blackened, leaving scorched markings.

"There. Now we have a contract neither can break."

Dante sniggered, "like that contract you and Vergil cooked up? How'd that turn out for you?"

"that wasn't a blood oath. Blood paths are absolute, where it's physically impossible to go against your word. Me and Vergil pretty much just shook hands on it."

"well, aren't you an idiot."

"didn't have a choice, anyway, I'll go bust Nero out of his predicament, you have fun getting those keys over there," Damon pointed to the iron chair.

"Thanks," Dante said, voice thick with sarcasm.

"Oh, I almost forgot this," he pulled out Lucky Dip, shoved it into the back of Dante's pants, and patted his arse.

"And you're welcome." He said, before he loosened the chains, causing Dante to drop to his knees. He then did his evil genie thing.

Dante staid there on his knees for a long while, regaining his bearings. Every nerve in his body throbbed with pain, and his inner devil raised hell inside his mind. All he wanted to do was scream, in agony, in rage, in humiliation. But he didn't, he pulled himself together and got to his feet.

* * *

As Damon strolled down the hall towards Nero's room, his mind wondered to the last time he had ever talked to his brother, Jake. It wasn't a very...pleasant time. It was over five years ago, black when the two if them were practically inseparable. Their last conversation was one of diversion, and hate. It was a month after their younger sister has died.

A week after they first had sex.

Damon knew how sick he was. He knew that it was unnatural to feel that way about your brother, but he gave up caring about what was natural and unnatural a long time ago. The nausea he use to feel whenever graphic imageries of his brother appeared in his head, has long since been wrung from his mind. Wrung and twisted his brain of all the "right" he could; twisted himself to the point of bat shit crazy. He had once only been an actor, but now...he'd started to believe his own lies.

Even now, he was going over his most recent lies in his head. He enjoys torturing people. He doesn't love Jake, it's only lust. He couldn't care less about Dante and Nero.

it's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. it's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. its a lie. it's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. Lier. It's the truth. Lier. Lier. Lier. it's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. All 's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. It's the truth. lies. It's the truth. It's the truth. Lies. It's the truth.

he hesitated in opening the door. He had to wipe the shell shocked look from his face and replace it with an arrogant smile.

"It's the truth..." He muttered, as if saying it aloud would help groom the mess in his head.

he opened the door and stepped in.

Nero jumped away from the closet, fully dressed. He was shocked to see Damon standing there, but he was quick to pull himself together. He watched the Incubus carefully, despite his obviously carefree demeanour. One can never be too careful.

"So...how was it?"

"How was what?"

"oh you know..."

Damon did a couple of vulgar hip thrusts to display his point.

Nero coughed, looking away and rubbing his nose. He looked back at him with a firm glare, "What the hell do you want Damon?"

"A trillion dollars, a luxury house on the beach, and to bail you out."

Nero rolled his eyes, "Yeah I'm sure. What's the game, huh? This another elaborate plan of Vergil's?"

"No, no no no, purely business. Dante struck a deal with me. Can you believe it?"

Damon told Nero they're to meet up at the front entrance.

Nero glared at him. "What's the catch Damon?"

Damon's smile dropped to a more serious level of smugness, "You have to free my brother."

"Why can't you do that?"

"I don't know where he is..."

"Oh gee, really? So how the hell am I suppose to know?"

"I'm sure you'll figure something out, otherwise I can always bring you back to Vergil, can't I?"

Nero glared at him before saying, "That brings me to my next point. Vergil's opened purgatory, he has some sort of insane power now, even though I haven't seen him use it yet."

"ah, now you see Nero, Vergil hadn't opened the real one just yet."

"what?" Nero looked at him in disbelief.

"You see there's the real one and there's the...well, the sampler. He's done everything required to open both. All he needs to do is find the real one. But the point is...well, he hasn't found it yet, has he?"

"You're bull shitting me."

"No I'm not. It's the truth."

Nero eyed the door, as if expecting Vergil to be waiting on the other side.

"Does Vergil know this?"

"Probably not. But it won't take him long to figure it out."

Nero closed his eyes and took a couple if deep breaths. His Fever had calmed down since Vergil left. Should he return, Nero just knew he himself was going to do something...shameful. And he doesn't have long to make up his mind. Does he place his trust in the incubus again? Or does he wait around for Vergil? What choice does he really have here? What are the outcomes of either?

What does he do?

Eventually he pinched the bridge of his nose before opening his eyes.

"Alright. Do you have any clue where your brother is?"

Damon grinned, "All I know is that he's definitely not in this tower."

"Oh good, that narrows it down to all of Hell, that helps, really."

"He's also in this area, this circle within the Black Mountains. If you manage to find him, I promise to Shepard you to the exit."

"0h you _promise_, eh?"

Damin held up his slit palm, which bore a strange black scar.

"Blood oath." He said.

"Whatever. Do you have my weapons?"

"In the armoury along with Dante's gear too. We'll be going there, and then I'll drop you off at your rendezvous point."

Nero bit his lip before thrusting his hand out to him, "Then what are we waiting for?"

Damon stared at him, smiling aggravatingly, before shaking Nero's hand and the two vanished in a woof of smoke. Completely blind to what was to come.


	9. Chapter 9

Snakes get a bad rep, wouldn't you agree? A snake symbolises cunning and evil. A snake symbolise the devil's form when he told Eve to take a bite out of the forbidden fruit. A snake symbolises a twisted thought or plan. But what is a snake? A cold blooded reptile, that slithers it's way around things. It eats it's full and goes to sleep for a long time. But a snake also seeks warmth; it would spend hours bathing on a rock, soaking up the heat. A snake, in fact, is more scared of you then you are of it. A snake would only attack you if you provoke it, otherwise, if you made enough noise, it'll just slither away, avoiding you at all costs. You can keep a snake as a pet and it'll love you to bits, curl around your hand and seek your warmth.

What is a snake to you?

* * *

The path to the Hell Gate was invested with vines and such, like spiderwebs infesting the underside of furniture. If you looked you could see vines that had been cut away recently littering the path, Nero's tracks from when he came through. Odd that the flora grew back so quickly, but nothing worth much note. All that mattered was this small fact meant that Nero had indeed gone through here, which elevated Lady's tarnished hopes.

When ducking and stepping over the vines became too taxing, Lady opted to a quick solution; Rocket power. Which cleared the way rather efficiently, eradicating both vines and stray weak demons.

"Hurry up, princess," Lady called behind her as she cut her way through a fresh mob of small fry.

"I'm coming!"

Kyrie ran up to her after Lady finished off the last wobbling chimera. With the acceleration, she ran into her back, but retracted herself soon after.

Lady nudged her with her elbow, "You take your sweet time. You do realise you're suppose to be the guide, right? I'm starting to feel a bit like a body guard."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Are we getting close?"

Kyrie nodded walking close beside the voluptuous woman with one hand resting on her shoulder. The forest was very lively, some noises were soothing, others sounded unnerving and abnormal.

"I'm sorry...I realise I'm not very useful...if there's anything you need me to do..."

"You can stop apologising for a start, and take your clammy hand off my shoulder."

Kyrie looked at her from the corner of her eye, "I take it you're not use to having company on these sorts of things."

"And I take it you don't get out often."

Kyrie smiled, "I'm right, aren't I?"

"Shut it, Princess."

They travelled with silence between them for a long time, up until they broke through the last wall of vines and arrived at the Hell Gate. The ruins were scattered, as expected, and there was no sign of activity.

Lady walked up to them and studied the stones one by one, looking for any clues.

But there was nothing. Nero's tracks ended here.

"Do you think it closed after he went in?" Kyrie offered.

Lady brushed a gloved hand over the nearest decorated stone, rubbing the dust and rubble that came off between her fingertips. It was vaguely warm. A strange property, as the stone should be ice cold, considering the winter weather.

"Maybe," she mumbled eventually. Whether it was true or not, either way, she had once again come to a dead end.

Off in the distance, the two damsels heard the sounds of approach. Voices could be heard, so they were human. Or at least, humanoid. Lady reached for her gun, ready to fight. Kyrie, however, grabbed her wrist and made a strange proposal.

"Let's hide."

"What? Oh no,_ you_ can hide, I'll talk with the strays. If their friendly, fine. If not, _boom_."

"Lady please. I think we should hide. If we're discovered you can..._boom_ later."

Lady frowned.

"We might be able to learn something, if my gut is anything to go by."

Lady rolled her eyes and said, "Fine. Alright, we'll hide for now. Where?"

"Um, over here!" Kyrie took Lady's sleeve in her grasp and led her behind a far stone from the entrance. There they crouched and waited for the mysterious figures to show themselves.

The first one was tall and thin, draped in a black cloak. Oily black hair spilled out of the hood. His face, barely visible from where they hid, was pale to the point of blue. He had the face of a man who had stayed up all night, and shaken awake. The kind of man one would feel the desire to drag outside somewhere warm and bright and say, "This is the sun. Say hi."

The second one was an even bigger man, wide and ripped, and donned in heavy silver armour. Strapped to his back was a war axe the size of a horse. His face was hard and rugged as if carved from bricks, with a deep scar that cut down his lips and to his collarbone.

He had a low bass in his voice, which almost seemed to thrum in the earth.

"Do you think that Incubus is still alive?"

The one in black coughed into his hand before wiping it on his own shoulder, his voice was as oily and sickly as he appeared, "I couldn't care less, but as things are now, we'll never make any more progress if he isn't. But truthfully, are you sure he was even reliable in the first place?"

"He's our senior commander. You'll do well to remember that."

"True. But his sanity is…well, he's a bit of a lunatic. Who knows what he'll do down there."

"Everything will be fine. Damon may not be the strongest demon I know, but he's the most cunning one. All he needs to do is waste a bit of Vergil's time, keep his hands full, while we search for Purgatory. And we're getting close."

Lady perked at the name "Vergil". Who Damon and these two men were, was beyond her. But that one name brought back bitter memories. And "Purgatory". Lady had heard of that, supposedly a place where thousands of souls had been locked away, the one who opens it is granted otherworldly power. Though, that's how most legends go, there are many versions of purgatory. Some even believed it's the place the most powerful and cruel of creatures go, stuffed in their like the dumpster for the wicked. Nature's nastiest rejects.

Kyrie perked at the mention of 'Purgatory' as well. She's heard of that somewhere before, but she couldn't place a finger on it. Who are these people? Are they linked to Nero?

The one in black stood staring at the shambles of the Hell Gate, "If he is alive, I wish he'd hurry up. It's kind of hard to search for Purgatory while on the surface."

"It's not just kind of hard, it's impossible."

"It's called sarcasm, you ten ton moron."

The big man gave me the stink eye, before adjusting the war axe on his back, so it clang with his armour. He studied the clearing, eyes narrowing, "What's taking him so long?"

"Like I said: either he's dead, didn't get our message about the fact we uncovered the whereabouts of Purgatory, or he's fucking around as he always does."

* * *

"Can you quit fucking around?" Nero growled, pushing the Incubus away.

"That's like asking water if it can quit be wet."

Damon had been doing nothing serious, all he'd been doing was tilting all the paintings he crossed.

Nero was starting to regret his choice of going with Damon. He was on the verge of swinging punches and just turning around and heading back to Vergil. But by that point, anything was better then Vergil. And besides Damon's lewdness and inconsistency, he was - in the most loosely definition of the word - helping.

They had already dropped by the armoury and Damon was currently leading Nero down the halls to the front entrance.

Nero suddenly stopped walking. Damon turned to him, curious to his behaviour.

"What the hell is going on?" He said eventually, "Why does this have to happen to me?"

"You do realise I'm an incubus, not your guardian angel, right?"

Nero looked up at him, eyes lacking their usual fire, before mumbling heatedly, "Never said you were."

He walked past Damon, bumping shoulders with him.

"Hey, do you want to go by yourself from here?"

Nero stopped and said, "Yeah."

"Fine then, good luck."

And just like that, gone. Nero was all by himself. He leant against a wall and bowed his head. He had no idea how and when this feel came over him, but it came none the the less, a tidal wave of shame and humiliation. What had happened on that altar...how he had shown Dante such a shameless side of himself. How low he had become. How feral and needy and just plain nasty. Now he was afraid, afraid of what Dante would think of him.

A small, foreign part of him, burned humbly inside of him, yet stronger then any Fever. This small part of him dared whispered hope into his thoughts. That maybe...just maybe, It will be alright. Maybe Dante will come to accept this side of Nero that had surfaced. Maybe even come to...

Come to what?

He buried such thoughts before they got out of hand. He stood up straighter and walked on, mentally preparing himself for whatever is to come.

* * *

**It's 1:30 in the morning and that was a pitifully short chapter, not to mention a late update. I have been so dead weight lately. I might add more to this chapter during the week, or I may just make my next update less half assed. And not left till midnight to do.**

**Inner voice: Yes that may help, Luna, if you stop writing these things at _1:00 in the freaking morning._**

**Oh well, the angry tigers have been put at bay, only to be back with more ferocity later. **

**Cheers!**


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